A Slayer in Wonderland
by Lady Irish Rose
Summary: Alice Hamilton, a Vampire Slayer, finds herself in an unusual situation after her boyfriend is abducted. In an attempt to rescue him, she ends up in Wonderland, right in the middle of a political quagmire where revolution is brewing...
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, actually. I'm just playing with the characters that other people have created.

**A/N: **I loved the mini-series Alice that was just on recently, though I wished it had been longer. I enjoyed the fact that Alice was a black-belt, but I decided to take it one step further and make her a Vampire Slayer and shake the story up a bit. I didn't stick this in the actual crossover section because none of the original BtVS characters make an appearance, at least not till the very end and then probably only one or two. This story is about Alice and her adventures in Wonderland; I just add a little spice to it is all.

I'm changing where Alice and her mom live to Cleveland, Ohio (I think it's implied that they live in New York City). Alice will be slightly different personality-wise, but I think I make an improvement upon her character. I am following the outline of the mini-series, but since this is technically AU, not everything will go according to the script. Hatter and Charlie were perfect as they are, so I plan on sticking to their characters.

By the way, it is not necessary for one to have watched every single episode of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ or even any of the show at all in order to understand the story, but if any readers have a specific question just send me a message. I'll either answer it in a reply or it will simply be explained later in the story. I'll shut up now and get on with the story.

**Full Summary: **AU Alice Hamilton, a Vampire Slayer, finds herself in an unusual situation after her boyfriend is abducted. In an attempt to rescue him, she ends up in Wonderland, right in the middle of a political quagmire where revolution is brewing and human emotions are a black market commodity. A smarmy but annoyingly charming and handsome tea shop owner/double agent, a lone white knight somewhat removed from reality, a psychotic queen with a penchant for beheading, and an assassin with a robotic rabbit head...nothing a Slayer can't handle. So long as she keeps her feet no more than six feet above ground.

* * *

**Prologue**

It was a slow night.

Well, slow was probably an inadequate term for it. It was far too generous, really. This night, aside from the normal sounds of a vibrant city, was actually more like a dead night. Even so, it was a lovely early spring night. The crescendo of a thunderstorm had just finished its last note, lumbering its way further towards the East Coast. The finishing shower was leveling off into a sprinkling mist. The rain had temporarily diminished the less pleasant stenches of sewage, garbage, and decay drifting from the darkened alleyways and cemeteries. The girl currently roaming through one such dark alley was at least thankful for that.

She was a petite young woman, with long hair tied back behind her head to hang down her back in a cable of dark silk. Her skin, a naturally pale hue, contrasted dramatically with her nearly black hair. Her eyes were a lustrous sapphire blue which surveyed her surroundings with practiced vigilance. She was dressed in clothes which blended easily with the darkness. Black boots with silver buckles rose halfway up her calves over top of tight black leather pants. The black leather jacket she wore brushed past her hips and concealed the long dagger and stake she had sheathed at her belt. Two more lethally sharp knives were hidden in her boots.

Normally, it would be a foolish move for a young woman to be casually jaunting down dark alleys in the wee hours of the morning alone. In fact, it was not just foolish. For a city such as Cleveland, it could very well be the last jaunt such a young woman ever had. Alice Hamilton, however, was not like most other young women. Most young women did not go out into the night dressed in subtly disguised leather armor whilst packing quite a few sharp, pointy weapons on their persons. Most young women possessed neither the skills nor the abilities to properly handle the dangers one could come across in a dark alley. Most young women did not pursue such dangers, either. On the contrary, Alice was practically begging one of those dangers to make an appearance. A Vampire Slayer with nerves strung as taut as her own needed something acceptable to take her anxiety out on.

"Of course, out of all the nights for all the vamps to take a vacation they have to pick this one," the girl mumbled quietly to herself.

The night was dead in Alice's view precisely because of the lack of undead activity. This was a rare occurrence because the city of Cleveland was built over a mystical dark node called a hellmouth. Usually, a girl like Alice could count on having at least a dozen or so vampires to thrash and dust before dawn. She had been out here wandering around the western side of Cleveland for well over three hours. Not a single vampire or demon had made an appearance. She could not even sense any within her vicinity.

Three dozen Slayers, including Alice, guarded the Cleveland hellmouth, which was, currently, the last remaining hellmouth in the United States. They normally patrolled in teams of four to six, sometimes more depending on what the situation entailed. All Slayers were equipped with the necessary training to hunt and fight solo, which was more intrinsic to their natures. But Alice had not even been scheduled for duty tonight. There was currently no major conflict going on that warranted the full, concurrent attention of all active-duty Slayers. She had gone out of her own accord for one simple yet annoying reason. Her nerves were wound tighter than a coiled spring and she needed something to release that negative energy before she exploded in a less suitable environment, such as the karate class she would be teaching tomorrow afternoon.

A man she had been seeing for a while was finally going to meet her mother tomorrow night. For most girls, this could cause some anxiety, but not enough to drive them out into the night recklessly looking for a supernatural brawl. But Alice was not _most_ girls. Her luck with men was notoriously heinous. She may not have possessed the infamous track record of Buffy Summers, commander of all the Slayers, but her own history with the male sex had enough heartbreak and disappointment to supply a soap opera for a few seasons.

She liked Jack Chase. She liked him a lot. Whether or not that like would ever blossom into love was still up in the air, especially so early into the relationship. But, then again, she was not certain she could ever really _love_ a man. Giving her heart to someone inspired more terror within her than taking on a whole group of axe-wielding demons solo. One man had all but destroyed her fragile heart once, and she had only been a child then. Her defenses had since been impenetrable in spite of the some of the valiant attempts of every boyfriend and lover to cross her path through the past few years. But Alice liked to think Jack was a man she could come to love some day. She liked to think he stood above the rest. There was something about him that set him apart from her former boyfriends, something intangible that she had not yet been able to figure out. The hopeful part of her viewed it as a turning point in her life, the point where she conquered that commitment trepidation and opened herself completely up to the possibility of love. The cynical portion of her personality was stronger, though. It was so deeply entrenched that it could not see past the heart that was broken. It wanted to protect that heart from further pain at all costs. Hence, her extreme contradiction of optimism and reservation over the next evening.

Alice sighed dejectedly as she reached an old cemetery. Many of the tombstones were so old the ground had practically swallowed them up. There was a strong earthy scent in the air, the scent of loam, soil, and age mixed together. To her knowledge, no one had been buried here in a few years, making it very unlikely any fledglings would be clawing themselves out of the dirt. A newborn vampire would be far too easy of a target for a veteran Slayer anyway. She stood before the rusted wrought-iron gate, staring at the place with indecision. Inside her head, she reasoned with herself. _Just go home and go to bed, Alice. The girls probably swept through and killed all the interesting ones and scared off all the wimpy ones. Besides, the last thing you need is a bruise on your face or a broken bone to have to explain to Mom and Jack, anyway._

Her job complicated things immensely. Her own mother did not even know about it, and Alice intended to keep it that way. Her mother believed her to be merely a college student and part-time martial arts instructor. Alice did not believe her mother could accept the fact that her only child battled creatures which most of the world believed to be fictional. Mostly, she did not want her mother worrying about her. It was not easy deceiving her, but, in Alice's opinion, deception was worth her mother's peace of mind. As for Jack, he had not been in her life long enough to earn the right to know about her secret life. She had no idea how he would react to the information that vampires and demons and all those creatures in the bedtime stories parents told their children to scare them into submission were real. If things progressed in their relationship as she hoped they would, she might tell him. She probably would, if only because she truly believed romantic relationships were doomed to failure if there was no trust and honesty between the two people. For now, she decided she would cross that bridge if, and when, she made it there.

She stood there, breathing in the deep, peaceful ambiance of the ancient cemetery. Lightning arced across the sky in a jagged white beam, illuminating Alice's soft features for a split-second. The rain which had been little more than a barely noticeable drizzle began to increase its force. She cocked a quizzical gaze up at the sky, allowing her face to feel the splash of the raindrops. Perhaps the storm was not through with them after all. With that in mind, Alice gave up on her quest for stress release and turned around to begin the journey back home. For good or for ill, she had a very important date tomorrow night. It was probably best she was rested for it.

* * *

Sorry for the no Slayer action. This is merely an introductory chapter to provide a little background information and a glimpse of Alice's life as a Slayer. Several chapters have already been written, but are, of course, subject to changes at my whim or if any readers offer brilliant suggestions.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated!

_*Edited and Re-Posted Apr. 17, 2011*_


	2. The Important Date

Thanks to my first reviewers! I would have had this chapter in earlier except I had to do this silly thing yesterday called college graduation so last week was certifiably crazy!

I'm not sure if Alice's boots in the miniseries were brown or purple. A friend of mine commented while we were watching my DVD that they were purple and so I made it so in the story.

* * *

**Chapter I: **The Important Date

"Yame!" Alice clapped her hands, signaling the end of today's karate class.

Some of her students were lying on the mats after well executed throws had landed them there by their sparring partners. This was the more advanced class, which meant Alice did not have to spend much time physically interacting with her students. Mostly, all she had to do was observe, advise, and rescue, if need be. Today that was very much a blessing, as she was still feeling highly strung with nerves. She was not very confident in her ability to withhold her vastly superior physical strength should she try to spar with a normal person.

"Thank you, everyone, that'll be all for today. See you on Tuesday!" she announced.

She focused her gaze on one particular student of hers, a tall man with sandy brown hair who was currently doubled over trying to regain his breath. He was dressed much the same as herself with a white robe over wide-legged white slacks. The only difference was in the color of the belts that kept the robe shut. The man's belt was as white as the rest of his outfit. Alice's belt was black.

Keeping her tone strictly business-like, she called to him, "Mr. Chase! I believe we have a private lesson."

The man looked up at her, his light brown eyes locking onto her own. He nodded and rose to his full height. She ambled over to him with her hands on her hips, surreptitiously making certain none of the other students had any intent on staying and watching. Though it was not exactly against the rules for her to date one of her students, she did not want to stir up any rivalries amongst her class. The less the rest of her students knew about her personal relationship with Jack Chase, the better.

"How many classes have you taken so far, Mr. Chase?" she inquired.

Rising to his full height, Jack replied in his crisp English inflection, "Ten in six weeks, but I could always do with more." She could see him trying to dispel the smirk which started to form after he said the last part.

She grabbed a fistful of the white fabric of his robe and pulled him forward, emitting a grunt of feigned effort. If she had wanted to, she could have thrown him clear across the room without breaking a sweat.

"But I'm only part-time. You'll probably have to see another instructor," she advised him. Then it was him pulling her, trying to hook one his legs around her own to try and trip her. She let herself be dragged forward the few inches, but artfully evaded his attempts to ground her.

"Who do you suggest?" he asked, clearly enjoying the banter.

"Tim Roberts is a very good instructor," she said casually.

"But I hear he has a mean streak," Jack countered, cocking an eyebrow.

_Oh, he looks cute when he does that. Maybe I should let him have the upper hand._

"What about Jenny Moyers?" His question was couched in a tone of complete innocence, but his twinkling, mirthful eyes belied that wholeheartedly.

_Well, say goodbye to the chance to throw me down, Jackie-boy._

"Hmmm, she's no good for you. She's too..." Alice floundered for a word that had nothing to do with the fact that Jenny Moyers was an exceptionally beautiful (and well-sought after) redhead. Professionally speaking, Alice had no qualms with the woman.

"Pretty?" Jack offered mildly.

Before he even had a chance to smile at the heat which brought a red bloom to Alice's pale cheeks, he was slammed to the ground with unexpected force. He gasped as the air was rudely expelled from his lungs.

"Ow," he choked out.

Alice straddled him, smiling with a peculiar mixture of sweet concern and devious self-satisfaction. She knew he was not really hurt. The mats absorbed quite a lot of the impact for all that they were only a few inches thick. She may have used more strength than she should have in throwing him down. It was not likely he would really notice. She was actually more surprised at herself for letting her paranoid, jealous side get the better of her. She was aware of the fact that he had simply been baiting her and had no intention of receiving instruction in the martial arts from Jenny Moyers. She had walked right into that trap, so to speak.

"Alice, that really hurt," he complained.

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?" she cooed mock-sweetly.

Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against his own, which gave willingly. They stayed linked like that for about thirty seconds before Jack broke the kiss with a sly interjection. "Um the pain is further down below." He grinned impishly, his golden-brown eyes gleaming with silent laughter.

Alice cocked an eyebrow at him. She pulled herself to her feet and held her hands out to help her boyfriend up.

"No, Alice, I need medical attention!" he pleaded.

"Yeah, yeah, come on, get up. Lesson's over," she told him dryly.

He chuckled as he she helped him to stand and followed her to the window where a few towels sat folded on the sill.

"So," Jack began, "tonight?"

"Seven-o-clock," Alice reminded him, throwing him a towel to wipe the sweat off his neck. She grabbed her silver and black water thermos, unscrewing the cap to take a long drink. "My mother is so looking forward to it," she added once she had finished her drink.

Jack smiled at that. "Good for your mum. So am I."

Jack had immediately expressed interest in meeting the woman who had raised his girlfriend. Alice had told him she and her mother were extremely close, especially since the disappearance of Alice's father over ten years ago. She had waited until she was certain Jack would be around long enough to warrant the infamous meet-the-mother dinner. After three months, she felt it was safe for proper introductions to ensue.

"So, ah, what have you told her about me?" Jack queried.

Alice took another swig from her thermos and shrugged. "Nothing much. Just that your leg kicks need work."

The response she received was a towel thrown at her face accompanied by sardonic laughter.

* * *

Alice stepped out into the sunlight armed with a full bag of groceries. The thunderstorm which had pounded the city the previous night had given way to warmth and light, enticing people out of doors for more than just a quick dash to the convenience store. This was the face of Cleveland most of its inhabitants saw. This was the face which blinded them to the much more sinister face it hid beneath its midnight mask. It was quite astounding to her that no one paid any mind to the staggering death toll and disappearances. Just about all the residents of Cleveland wore a thick pair of rose-tinted glasses.

_Guess every hellmouth town has Sunnydale Syndrome._ Residents of Sunnydale, California, where the USA's other hellmouth once resided had behaved in a very similar manner. She shook her head, banishing such dark thoughts from her mind. There was nothing she could do about the collective denial of a whole city of people. She had her own issues to worry about.

The primary issue at the moment was deciding upon what to wear for the dinner tonight. Since her mother would be there, a slinky black dress or slinky any-color dress was quite out of the question. She preferred to avoid the other extreme, however, which would entail covering up every bit of skin save for her face and neck. Alice skimmed her mental inventory of the formal wear she owned, which proved to be more disappointing than she had hoped. Nothing she had seemed appropriate. She knew it was somewhat ludicrous to be stressing over an outfit to wear at a dinner within her own home, but this was not just any dinner. This was, quite possibly, the dinner which could determine the course of her entire relationship.

So lost in her inane thoughts of clothing was she, that she almost did not hear the man propped up against the corner of two buildings address her. "Spare any change, ma'am?"

Even if he had not requested some change, she would have known him for a homeless person. He was dressed in a long brown coat, though whether that was the coat's natural color or just a result of not being washed in eons was up for debate. Large glasses that looked as if they were being held together by tape obscured most of his dirt-coated face. Grungy brown locks of hair peaked out from beneath his knit cap. The holes in his pants exposed scraped, knobby knees. On his hands were gloves cut so as to allow his fingers to poke through. In one hand he held a small cup, no doubt to collect the change he so ardently wished for. It was probably safe to assume the poor man had seen better days. Alice felt a stab of pity.

"Um, sorry, no," she stammered.

The man stared at her, his pitiful watery eyes perched behind those scuffed lenses latching onto the strings of pity. She sighed and rummaged around in her grocery bag, figuring the least she could do was give the man some food. "I do have these, though," she told him, pulling out a clear plastic bag with three red apples in it.

He seemed perplexed (and more than a little disappointed) by the offer, but reached out for it anyway. Alice bit her lip to keep from saying aloud the phrase that had just entered her mind as she handed the bag to him. _Beggars can't be choosers. _That would have just been rude.

A cold chill hit her right then, as she watched the man study the apples suspiciously. It was a chill unlike anything she had ever felt before. It started at the base of her spine, and then proceeded up the column to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. She consulted with her special senses, wondering if she may have missed something about the man. Normally, she only allowed her sixth sense to operate at the forefront of her senses when she was on duty. It was far too distracting to keep it essentially turned on all the time. It was always there, though, operating silently in the background.

The man checked out as a normal, but rather unfortunate, human being. Why she would be assaulted with such strange, foreboding sensations by him was beyond her. Such things were not within her area of expertise.

Unnerved by it, she quickly exited the scene to make her way to the small house she and her mother shared. She decided to put the moment out of her mind.

* * *

Carol Hamilton walked into the bedroom, finding her daughter peering at her computer screen with a frown upon her face while clicking the mouse repeatedly. Glancing at the screen, she saw that Alice had been reviewing photos of middle-aged men. She was rejecting every single one of them with a disheartened "no".

"Where are these from?" she asked.

Carol knew better than to object to her daughter's search for her father. Where she herself had managed to let go of her lost husband and move on with her life, Alice had held firmly onto the belief that her father was alive and well. She was so determined to find him and confront him. She desperately wanted to know why he had left them alone. Carol's husband's disappearance had cast a shadow over Alice's life. A shadow the girl had, unfortunately, never been able to rid herself of.

"New Zealand," Alice said monotonously.

In spite of the serious manner with which her daughter regarded the business in finding her father, Carol found no crime in trying to inject some humor into the situation. "Very nice. If Daddy's in New Zealand I might just fly out there and look for him myself."

Alice sighed and sat back in her chair. "Don't bother. He's not in New Zealand." The dark-haired girl stood and selected a tack from the cup on her desk. She shoved it into the tiny area denoted as New Zealand on the world map hanging on the wall above her desk. The map was covered in hundreds of tacks.

_Oh, sweetheart, I wish you'd just let it go. Live your life._ She had tried to tell Alice these things before. Her daughter was far too stubborn and willful to adhere to such advice. She would hold onto the past even if it was slowly draining the light from her life. The woman regarded her child solemnly, marveling at the curious way in which Alice seemed both so grown up and so like a child at the same time. There was something missing in her daughter's life. It was something Carol could not provide and something the absence of her husband could not completely account for. While she wanted to believe this Jack Chase, her daughter's current boyfriend, could be the key, the missing piece of the puzzle which was Alice's life, history had taught her otherwise.

"Should I get out the fine china?" Carol queried, failing to quell the sarcasm in her voice.

Evidently, Alice had noticed the tone. "Hey, wait, I thought you were excited to meet him!"

"I am!" Carol assured her. "I only hope it's not the kiss of death," she added sheepishly.

Alice frowned in confusion. "Kiss of death? What is that supposed to mean, Mother?"

Carol was surprised her daughter even had to ask such a question. Surely the girl had drawn the lines between bringing a man home to meet her and the relationship ending within a few days (a week at most by Carol's reckoning)? Or was the poor child in denial?

"Oh, come on, you know it's true. You no sooner bring a guy home with you then you come up with your own reasons about why he should never come back," the older woman pointed out wearily.

"Oh, yeah, well," Alice appeared to struggle for a counter argument. She ended up settling for, "Well, this one's different."

Intrigued, Carol arched an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"

"Well, he has an English accent for starters."

Carol laughed. "I hear wedding bells already."

* * *

Alice had no idea why she chose the blue dress. She supposed she had panicked when the clock read 6:55 and she was still standing there in her bra and panties. It was not that the dress was unattractive; it simply had not been what she had envisioned herself wearing for tonight. Furthermore, it was by some bizarre misstep in fate that the only clean pair of pantyhose she had on hand was dyed a deep magenta color, which, to Alice's mind, clashed horribly with the blue, sleeveless dress. When she heard the door buzzer signal Jack's arrival, she grabbed the nearest pair of footwear she could find: purple leather boots. The dinner had not even started yet and already things appeared to be deviating from the plan. This was not good.

It never occurred to her that she could have made Jack wait a few more minutes so she could find a more suitable pair of shoes. Or she could have let her mother answer the door. She merely pulled the boots on and laced them up before sprinting down the hall to let him in. He stood in front of the door, smiling brightly at her and looking as dashing as ever in a black jacket and black dress slacks with a dark blue dress shirt.

"You look lovely," he told her. He sounded like he actually meant it, too, which provoked a shy smile from Alice.

"You're not so bad, either. Come on in," she returned, stepping back to give him room to enter. Though it was somewhat of a cardinal rule among Slayers to never openly invite a person into their homes, Alice was quite confident implementing the rule with Jack was not necessary. She had seen the man walk around in daylight, after all.

As Jack entered the domain, he produced a bouquet of white roses from behind his back.

"Oooh," Alice remarked with pleasure. "For me?"

Jack glanced at Alice's approaching mother before looking back to Alice. "For both of you, actually."

Carol's mother seemed equally pleased with the flowers. She bestowed a glowing grin upon her daughter's boyfriend while accepting the bouquet. "Oh, how lovely. Thank you," she said.

Alice commenced with the gratuitous introductions before her mother wandered back into the kitchen with a promise of dinner on the table within twenty minutes.

"This," Jack said quietly as he snaked a hand inside his jacket, "is for you."

It was a single red rose. Alice smiled and brought it up to her nose to sniff. Not every guy she had dated had given her a beautiful rose. She was not even certain some of the past guys had even known what roses were. She had not always selected her paramours from the most eligible of bachelors.

In spite of Alice's initial misgivings about the night, the event was going surprisingly well. Her mother and her boyfriend seemed to get along amiably as they chatted about the home she and her mother had resided in since Alice had been a child. Her mother was always in the midst of some kind of renovation with the place. This time it was the floors, which were to be redone in the fall.

"It seems like we've been here forever. Just the two of us. God, about eleven years since..." Alice's mother trailed off, her expression darkening with worry.

"March 23rd," Alice finished softly. This was a turn in the conversation she had neither foreseen nor welcomed. She swallowed the lump which had suddenly materialized in her throat.

"Yes, Jack, Alice is meticulous with dates," Carol informed him carefully.

Alice shook her head. "Just that one, really." She shot her mother a pleading look.

"Oh, of course, that's when," Jack said, wrapping one of Alice's hands in his own and squeezing it for comfort.

"Yeah," Alice confirmed. The word rang with a finality which brooked no argument.

Alice's mother found a keen interest in the wine remaining in her glass. After a few moments, with her composure regained, she announced that she was ready to retire to watch one of her favorite television shows. She bid the couple good-night and left the two to their own devices.

Jack peered at his girlfriend anxiously. "I'm sorry, Alice."

Alice sighed and plastered on a brave smile. This was not the time for the emotions involved with her father's disappearance to get stirred up. She squeezed them back behind the mental bars she had constructed for them long ago. "No, I am. I didn't mean to do the family baggage thing. I guess that got a little awkward there," she said.

"No, no," Jack said. "I want to know all about you. The good parts and the bad."

Alice emitted a small, nervous chuckle. "Be careful what you wish for." _I don't think you could handle the really bad parts just yet._

Before Jack could reply, Alice heard his phone make some inquisitive beeping sounds as if to ask: _why is no one paying attention to me?_ Annoyance flickered across her boyfriend's face as he stood and reached into the pocket of his slacks to fish his cell phone out. He shot an apologetic look at Alice as he flipped it open to read his message. If he had not had his back turned towards her, she would have seen and marked the panic which flitted across his features as he read his message. As it was, she only felt some mild concern over it.

"What's up?" she asked.

Instead of answering her, he turned around, his face mostly cleared of the alarm it had clearly been displaying only seconds before. He shoved his cell phone back into his pocket and regarded her intently. His intense gaze seemed to produce that same weird chill Alice had felt earlier in the day. Unease gripped her like a vice.

"How would you like to meet my family?" he asked.

_Well, that definitely came from out of the blue._ "What, are they coming to town?"

"No, no we'd have to go there," Jack told her. His voice sounded strained.

_Something's not right, _Alice thought to herself. She would not have survived so long in her line of work if she did not listen to what her instincts transmitted. Though she could tell he was trying his best to conceal it, Jack Chase was fidgeting anxiously. Her keen eyes spotted miniscule beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

_Geez, what did that message say?_

"Um," she started slowly. "Okay, when?"

"Tonight," he stated seriously.

Alice gawked at him for a few seconds before clearing her throat for a response. She had no idea what had possessed her boyfriend to think she would agree to something like this with so little preparation involved. Moreover, she had no idea just why he would suddenly pose the question. "Um, tonight? Yeah, that's not gonna work for me. I mean, I haven't planned for it at all. I just can't get up and go, just like that," she stammered.

Jack squeezed his hands into tight fists. Alice could practically see the anxiety gnawing at his reserve. "Oh, but that's part of the adventure," he countered, attempting to sound cheerful. "Some things are more exciting when they're spur of the moment, don't you think?" He grinned, but it was a grin which was tight and forced.

Alice preferred things to be planned out. She liked to know what was coming, when it was coming, and where it was coming from. She was a huge proponent of strategizing and technique, and did not take kindly to being caught off guard or by surprise. Of course, it did not mean she was not capable of thinking on her feet or improvising. A Slayer would not last long if she was unable to do such things. Given the choice, however, she would take a well-mapped out battle strategy over charging in blindly any day.

"Besides, you look perfect as you are," he continued. He was sounding almost desperate. She was baffled by that. Just how badly did he want her to meet his parents? "If we leave now, we can be back by Monday morning."

Alice shook her head. Aside from the fact that she was not only pulling Slayer duty all weekend as the squad leader, it was all still too spur-of-the-moment for her tastes. She searched for a way out of this.

"What if...what if they don't approve of me?" she pointed out, crossing her arms.

Jack dismissed that possibility entirely. "Oh, they'll approve of you. Especially when they see you wearing this." He grabbed his jacket, which had been hanging on the back of the chair, and pulled what looked suspiciously like a ring box out of the front pocket.

Alice's eyes widened in shock; panic surged through her system. Her cobalt eyes centered on the box as if it were the only thing in the room. It was oddly shaped, as far as ring boxes go. She had never been presented with one before, but she had seen enough of those jewelry store commercials blathering on about the perfect diamond for the perfect question to know what one looked like. Instead of the typical square shape, this box was round. The dark wooden top was intricately carved into a tight spiral design with a small, silver metal circle in the middle of the very top. The bottom of the box was likewise silver and metal with designs etched into it. Whatever unusual design it was, a ring box was a ring box. The disturbing chill was winding its way through Alice's entire body, coaxing goose-bumps to pop out on the exposed skin of her arms. She numbly took the box in her hands when Jack offered it to her, mentally cursing herself for accepting something she clearly did not want.

Jack walked behind her and laid his hands over top of his own as she studied the box. "Its got a hidden catch," she heard him say. Though his mouth was literally next to her ear, he sounded like he was at the other end of a long tunnel to Alice.

_Don't open it,_ a voice in Alice's head warned her. _Make him stop, Alice!_

Jack twisted the bottom and pressed the silver circle on the top, which evidently was a button of some sorts. A little spring pop was heard and he pulled off half of the wooden top.

There it was. Nestled in a cusp of white fabric was an unusual ring. A large amber colored stone sat atop the gold ring with a strange, twirling pattern of green encircling it. Alice stared at it blankly, mesmerized by the strange aura emanating from it. It took a few moments for her mental faculties to completely restore themselves. When they did, Alice came to a startling realization. This ring, whatever Jack may have thought of it, was some kind of enchanted artifact. She could feel the magicks roiling off of it, intertwining with her acute, preternatural senses.

"It, ah, looks really old," she remarked.

Did he know this was an enchanted ring? What it was precisely meant for, Alice had no idea. Though it was quite ridiculous, the girl could not help but picture the character Frodo from the Tolkien novels _The Lord of the Rings_, holding up the One Ring triumphantly. She shooed the image away. That was just a product of fiction and had no bearing on this current situation, which was very much a reality.

"It's been in my family for a very long time," her boyfriend informed her. He bestowed a tender kiss on her temple.

_Has it now? _Alice was beginning to think she should have probably checked out Jack's credentials a bit more thoroughly before dating him. The questions she wanted to peg him with, however, turned to ashes in her mouth the moment she tried to ask. She desperately wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. She really wanted to believe he was ignorant of this thing's true nature.

"Are you...are you giving this to me?" Alice pulled away from his embrace to turn and face him. She regarded him with a look of pure confusion mixed with trepidation.

"Would you like to try it on?" He asked, sounding as if he was excited at the prospect.

_No, not really._ She glanced down at the ring, suppressing the involuntary shudder that trickled through her hands. Looking back up at Jack, she said, "Jack, a ring means something. It..this is too fast for me. This is way, way too fast. I'm sorry, but I can't accept this ring."

She handed the box back to him, feeling a stab of guilt at the look of bitter disappointment on his face as he cupped it in his hands.

He took a deep breath. "Well, perhaps you'll feel differently once you've met my friends and family."

_He's persistent, I'll give him that_. "No, I can't go with you, Jack," she refused. "Not tonight. Not like this."

The chill had subsided, just slightly, in the face of the dread churning her gut. She looked down at her feet so he would not see the tears of regret in her eyes as she made an undesirable decision. She hated having to do this to him, but the man obviously had gotten the wrong impression of her. Perhaps he did not mean the ring as a marriage proposal. Either way it was still far too early in the relationship to be gifting her with a ring. Marriage or not, it symbolized a commitment the girl was not yet willing to make. She had to make him see that if there was any hope of salvaging what was between them.

"Maybe we should take it easy for a few days, Jack. Spend some time apart, you know," she mumbled reluctantly. Looking back at him, she steeled herself against the look of rejection, hurt, and confusion on her boyfriend's face. Guilt flushed her cheeks red. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. "We'll see how we feel in a few days."

"Alice, I," Jack started, but Alice stopped whatever it was he was going to say. She wanted to hear no pleas or justifications, for it would only make this more difficult.

"Just give me some time," she said quietly.

Alice turned away from him and walked towards the door, unable to bear the hurt on his face. She heard his heavy footsteps, as if he were dragging himself after her.

Opening the door, she forced herself to look him in the eye. The golden brown irises were glistening with emotions. Disappointment was there, most definitely. There was sorrow. But there was something else, too. It was something that almost looked like fear, which fed her suspicions of something else going on underneath the radar. She was too emotionally weary to delve into that, however. Whatever was going on, she hoped Jack would enlighten her in the next few days. Of course, that was if he still felt like speaking to her. She honestly would not be surprised if he did not want to see her at all.

He hugged her before walking out the door. She breathed in his unique scent as she allowed her head to rest on one of his broad shoulders, beating back the urge to cry. When he let go, he put his jacket on and nodded at her. She bid him goodbye and shut the door, leaning against it and forcing her head upwards for gravity to do its work upon her tears.

She was completely unaware that her boyfriend had covertly slipped the ring box into one of the pockets of her dress while he had been hugging her.


	3. A Merry Chase

And now we start to deviate from the script...

**Chapter II: **A Merry Chase

When her mother emerged from watching whatever television show had so enthralled her, the woman was immediately confused to find her daughter unaccompanied. Alice was not in the mood for any "I-told-you-so" lectures, but knew she owed her mother an explanation. So she told her mother about Jack offering her a ring which had been in his family for years.

"Was it a diamond ring?" Carol questioned.

Alice, now splayed on the sofa, sighed and shook her head. "Why does it matter what kind of ring it was? Either way it looked liked like a pricey rock." She waited for it. Her mother was going to give her the "I-told-you-so" speech without actually saying the words.

Carol frowned. "So, after weighing all the possible cons with all the unlikely pros, you just kicked him out?" she said mildly.

The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance. "You know, Mom, why don't you just go ahead and say 'I told you so'?"

Alice's mother came over to sit on the table in front of the sofa where the girl lay. Her voice full of tender sympathy, she said, "Sweetheart, just because Daddy left doesn't mean all the men in your life will."

Though that probably was the crux of all the issues she had with men, she had not been looking forward to it being spoken aloud so blatantly. She shifted her position on the couch, which caused her to feel some hard object in her pocket rub against her hip bone. Puzzled, she reached into her pocket to find out what it was.

It was the ring box Jack had tried to give her. She stared at the object in mute astonishment. How had it ended up in her pocket when she clearly remembered handing it back to him? She gasped when she realized he must have slipped it into her pocket when he hugged her at the doorway. How she had not been able to sense that, she did not know. She was slightly angry with herself for missing it.

"It's the ring. He must have slipped it into my pocket," she explained incredulously.

Her mother cocked an eyebrow, but did not offer any comment.

"Oh, I don't think so," Alice muttered crossly, pulling herself to her feet. She stomped across the living room towards the doorway.

"Alice, wait!" her mother cried.

Alice ignored her.

She burst through the door, stepping onto the sidewalk and looking around. Hopefully, Jack had not gotten far. She was going to catch up with him and give this wretched thing back to him along with a piece of her irate mind. What had he been trying to pull? Had he not understood she did not want the ring? Was the word "no" not in his vocabulary? _He better have a damn good explanation for this._

"Jack!" she called out.

She ran towards an alley that separated the building she and her mother lived in from the building beside it. Halting in front of it, she yelled out Jack's name again.

It had rained earlier in the evening, causing a plethora of puddles to form in the dips in the ground littering the alleyway. It was far colder out than it had been earlier in the day. She hugged herself as she tried to figure out which way Jack might have gone. In hindsight, she probably should not have let him walk these streets alone at night, in spite of the awkwardness which would have ensued. Cleveland had many dangers to offer; dangers which few grown men could hope to stand against.

As if in confirmation of her sudden worry, a masculine cry of pain and terror pierced the air. She whipped her head towards the dank, dripping alley towards the direction the cry had come from. She had a sinking, terrible feeling it had been Jack crying out.

"Jack!" she screamed, sprinting down the alleyway. She did not even notice the cold water soaking through her pantyhose as she heedlessly splashed through the puddles. She rounded a corner just in time to see her boyfriend, limp in the clutches of two men in dark suits, being tossed into the back of a white van.

Red-hot rage boiled through her veins. "Hey! she shouted, running towards them fully prepared to unleash a Slayer's wrath.

The double doors at the back of the van slammed shut. With squealing tires, the vehicle tore off down the road with a burst of speed. The van's high center of gravity almost forced it to tip over as the driver turned sharply down a narrow alleyway.

Ignoring the shock and anguish which made her body want to sag onto the cold, wet ground, Alice sucked in a breath of air and started to run after them. Slayers had been built for speed and endurance. She was confident she could catch up to the vehicle and subsequently rescue her boyfriend from the clutches of these strange men. She had no clue what kind of trouble her boyfriend was in, but visions of sleekly dressed Mafiosos were sprouting in her mind. Those men in the dark suits certainly fit the description of mob peons.

_My god, I shouldn't have kicked him out. This is all my fault. He would have been safe from them if he had stayed with me._ _I knew something was wrong! _

Her pursuit was halted when a white-haired man dressed in a white suit with a gray overcoat stepped into her path. The image of a white rabbit stood out starkly on his lapel. He leaned on a cane with a shiny silver knob at the top and regarded her curiously, his dark beady eyes roving all over her. His presence made her flesh crawl with distaste. Two opposing urges assailed her. One urge was to push the strange man out of her way and recommence her pursuit of her boyfriend. The other urge, which was growing stronger by the second, was to stay and listen.

"I wouldn't bother trying to run after him, my dear. I'm afraid he's gone," the man told her in an urbane voice. The voice and demeanor did not strike her as that of any mobster she knew of, and the Slayers had had dealings with branches of the various mafias in the past. In fact, the vibe she was receiving from him was almost..._otherworldly_.

Alice clenched her fists in fury. "Who are you?" she demanded.

The man shrugged as if the subject of his identity was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. He walked towards her nonchalantly, a twisted parody of a smile on his face. "Oh, I'm a friend of Jack's," he replied lightly.

She kept her stance poised and ready for attack, but delayed it until she was certain he was an actual threat. "What the hell kind of a friend are you? Why didn't you help him?"

"I _am_ here to help him," the strange man said matter-of-factly. He circled her like a hawk circled its prey.

The man did not realize it, but he was treading a fine line between walking and having both his femurs snapped. The end of Alice's patience was steadily growing closer.

"You see, Alice," the man started. She felt a jolt when she heard him say her name. "Jack took something that didn't belong to him. We need it back."

Though the man had given no hint as to what it was her boyfriend had supposedly taken, she knew immediately what the strange fellow was referring to. They wanted the ring Jack had tried to give to her. She held her hands behind her back, grasping the ring box. Something whispered to her that this man could not be permitted to get his hands on the ring. Deftly, she sprung the hidden catch and slipped the ring onto her finger before snapping the box closed again. She spun the ring around on her finger so the stone faced downward.

"How do you know my name?" she asked.

The man ignored the question. "The ring, girl," he said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Alice shook her head and eyed the man in defiance. "No, you tell me where you've taken Jack first."

The man smiled coldly. "I can assure you, my dear girl, he is quite safe."

For some reason, that did nothing to reassure her at all. She cocked her head. "Okay, well prove that to me. Bring him to me and have him tell me that himself."

The man huffed. It sounded as if he was growing impatient as well. "Come now, Alice. I can't do that. He must return with us to face charges."

Her patience disintegrated. She lunged forward and snatched the man up with one hand, lifting him clear off his feet and slamming him against the brick wall behind them. His dark eyes bulged out of his head with shock and terror. His arms flailed wildly as he tried to smack her head with his cane. She kept herself far enough back so the cane could not touch her. In her free hand, she held up the ring box. The man immediately stopped struggling when he saw it, staring at it dumbly. She smothered the urge to toss the ring box and see if he would run after it as if in a game of fetch.

"Okay, you have messed with the wrong guy's girlfriend. I'm not some helpless damsel in distress. You want your stupid ring, I don't care. But you're going to have to play the game my way," she enlightened him sharply.

His eyes rolled in their sockets to gape at her, anger and surprise brewing in them. His gaze darted past her then, focusing on something behind Alice. That was when her senses caught up to her through the seething tidal wave of rage. The old man had some backup.

"Release him and the box!" someone ordered in a gruff voice. She felt what could only be the end of a handgun press up against her skull.

_Idiot.__ Way to maintain your vigilance, Alice._ Since a Slayer could not dodge a bullet at point blank range and Alice was quite fond of all her brains being inside her skull, she did as she was ordered. The old man scrambled for the ring box, snatching it up greedily and getting to his feet. The girl, meanwhile, turned around, hoping nobody would notice she was, in fact, wearing the ring.

The man holding her at gunpoint had bland features with slicked back dark hair. Two other men flanked him on each side, their hands resting precariously on their side-arms. They were attired in charcoal suits similar to the ones the men who had abducted Jack had worn. From closer up, Alice could see that the suits were oddly embellished with a gray-colored emblem in the shape of a spade upon the lapel. In addition to that, each man had a different number inscribed on his suit.

_Suits on suits? That's weird._

The white-haired man seemed positively gleeful to see her in such a predicament. He chuckled sardonically while pocketing the ring box. "Well, you certainly are quite a bit stronger than I expected," he remarked to Alice.

To the men in the dark suits, he instructed, "Deal with this. I'm taking the ring back to Her Majesty. I'm already running late." With that said, he turned, twin tails of long white hair whisking around him, and limped off down the alley.

The men flanking the one holding his gun out unleashed their firearms. She sighed in irritation. She had only one guess what dealing with her entailed, and it probably involved being shot. Alice had no intention of being shot. She intended to follow that white-haired man so he could lead her to Jack. These men with the guns were only going to slow her down.

Her leg sprung out with a powerful kick, sending the gun tumbling out of the middle man's grasp. Before he could react, Alice spun, lashing out another kick that caught the man across the chin. The other two fired shots, but she had already ducked and rolled to avoid being hit. The middle man had been thrown backwards to crash into the garbage dumpster. Flipping to her feet, she decked one of the men, smashing his jaw with her strength. He hit the ground with a resounding thud. The remaining man, whether from misguided bravery or sheer idiocy, stayed where he was and fired off another shot.

He missed.

She grabbed the arm holding the gun, twisting it painfully and bringing the man to his knees. He was finished off when Alice slammed her knee into his face.

Leaving the unconscious men where they were, she skirted off down the alley in the direction the white-haired man had gone. She saw him run inside an abandoned building. Increasing her speed, she followed him. It was a large, mostly empty building with a wide, cavernous central room. Old wooden crates left from the building's earlier days littered the ground in heaps. Chains hung down from the crisscrossing metal beams emerging from the ceiling. The old man was across the room when she came in, running up a flight of stairs. She sprinted across the room at preternatural speed and completely bypassed the entire staircase by leaping to the edge of the upper landing. Flipping herself over the railing, she spotted the man's twin tails of hair disappearing down a corner. Thinking she had him, she smiled triumphantly as she followed him around the corner.

Her triumph died immediately once she witnessed something that, once upon a time, she would have thought impossible.

Standing at the end of the short corridor was a large, antique mirror with a thick, gilt edge. Instead of cursing his luck at having turned into a dead end, the white-haired man continued running as if the mirror was not there at all. Alice's jaw dropped when the man stepped into the mirror, the silver glass rippling like water, and disappeared.

"What the fuck?" she blurted aloud. Even for a Slayer, watching someone disappear into a mirror was a bizarre sight.

Once she quickly recovered from the shock, Alice realized she was left with a major dilemma. Should she follow the man into this portal and rescue her lover? Or should she wait and gather up information and reinforcements? Option two was, in her opinion, the preferred plan of action, as she had no idea where that mirror portal led and what kind of lifeforms she would encounter there. She had no weapons and she was not dressed for combat; she was not prepared for any kind of rescue mission. On the other hand, option one did not require nearly so much time. Time was a luxury her boyfriend may not have. Perhaps he could not wait for her to gather up intelligence, supplies, and reinforcements.

"Goddammit, Jack," she cursed, slowly advancing towards the mirror to see if there were any kind of inscriptions on it. "What the hell did you get yourself into?"

Like the ring, the mirror threw off its own mystical energy. It wrapped around the young Slayer, beckoning her towards it. The ring on her finger began to hum excitedly, as if it were being reunited with its soulmate. She lifted up her hand to see if the ring had started glowing, but it remained the same as when she had first seen it in the box.

Standing not even an inch from the mirror, she saw that neither the gilt edge nor the deceptively solid reflective surface bore any kind of inscriptions she could discern. The craftsmanship was excellent, she noted. Her sharp eyes could not detect a single flaw in the make of the mirror. She lightly brushed her fingers over the gilt edge. It was solid.

She frowned at her reflection. "Okay, time to make a decision, Alice," she told herself firmly.

It was plain curiosity that made the decision for her, in the end. She had merely wanted to see if the mirror would respond to her as it did the white-haired man, thinking the portal might possibly not work for her. She lifted her hand and slowly brought it towards the glistening surface of the mirror's reflective surface. Her hand slid through the surface, causing it to ripple ominously. She had intended to pull her hand out to deliberate further on her course of action. But, as sometimes goes in the life of a Slayer, intention and what actually occurs do not always agree. Once Alice stuck her hand in the mirror, she was pitched forward as if caught in a vacuum. Even with her miraculous strength, the girl could not resist the extreme force pulling at her.

With a cry of dismay, Alice was completely sucked into the mirror.


	4. Down the Wormhole

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! This chapter does not deviate from the script too much, but I thought, in this case, it was for the best. Besides, it leads to the next chapter, which finally brings in a very favorite character.

* * *

**Chapter III: **Down the Wormhole

She was flying. Her body was stretched out like a diver, arms strung out above her head, as she was sucked through a winding, worm-hole like, Technicolor vortex. Up and down were indistinguishable as she traveled through the vortex. Light and darkness became one and the same. Her mind had no ability at all to process what was happening or how it was happening. All other coherent thoughts did not return to her until she made jarring contact with solid ground. Even then, it took a few minutes for her brain to start operating lucidly.

Once she managed to regain the air which had been knocked from her lungs, Alice did a quick mental inventory of her body. She cataloged any pains, satisfied to find nothing more than minor aches caused, no doubt, from her rather inelegant landing. No bones were broken, which she was quite grateful for. Her head was pounding slightly, but, other than that, she was perfectly fine. Standing proved to be a trial, as the travel through that freakish tunnel had disoriented her, making her surroundings spin before her eyes. She blinked through the vertigo and waited patiently for the world to halt its mad rotations. Harsh buzzing noises which sounded like the blaring alarms from those science fiction movies, the ones that sounded whenever the spaceship had taken a hit, bounced off the walls. Their amplified sounds exacerbated the pounding in her head.

Alice had landed on grass, but quickly deduced that she must have landed on the only grassy part of the area. She did not bother to consider why there was grass when she was clearly inside some sort of building, and it was obvious it was not the same building she had run into just a few minutes ago. The hallway looming in front of her was flooded ankle-deep with dark water. Thick cables hung exposed from the ceiling, sparking dangerously. Light panels drifted on precarious hinges, threatening to drop any second on the next unsuspecting person to walk under them. Lights flickered on and off, producing an eerie pattern of shadows on the walls of wherever she was.

Yes, that was her chief problem, was it not? Alice had no idea where she was. She had known the mirror was some kind of a portal. In all likelihood, she had been transported to a different dimension or plane of existence. She knew of such things, had even known people who had experienced inter-dimensional travel (whether intentional or accidental), but she had never had any personal experience of it. The young Slayer had never really harbored a desire to visit other dimensions. In fact, she had not even meant to enter this portal; she had merely wanted to touch it to see if it would work for her.

_Look but don't touch next time, Alice,_ she mentally admonished herself.

This was troubling, as the girl had no way of knowing whether or not she could get back to her world. Aside from that, no one knew she was here, so there was no guarantee of aid from her world. But she _knew_ this was where the white-haired man had gone since she had clearly seen him enter the mirror portal. This was also where her boyfriend had been taken. She had no way of confirming that for certain, but her gut was telling her loud and clear she was on the right path to finding Jack. Besides, the man had as good as told her Jack had been taken here when he mentioned her boyfriend having to face some kind of charges.

Alice formulated the bare bones of a plan, the details of which would have to be worked out later once she learned more about this place. She would find Jack and rescue him from whatever peril he was currently facing first. Then she would find a way to get them out of this world. As far as plans went, she did realize hers was rather slapdash, but it made her feel better having some kind of strategy in mind rather than traipsing blindly around a foreign world.

The girl started walking, splashing through the filthy water. She shivered as the water sloshed up over the top of her boots and soaked her feet. A few yards down the hallway, there was a corridor to her right. She glanced down the corridor, noting the grungy yellow double doors at the end. After a few moments of careful thought, she decided she would rather take her chances with the door than to have to continue to trek through cold, murky water.

The doors led out of the building to the purplish gray-cast skies of the outside world. The girl carelessly stepped out before taking one swift glance at the end of the concrete ledge in front of the door, which was only about two feet wide. There was a total drop-off beyond the ledge. It looked like it was a long way down. Alice squeaked in terror and stepped back, splaying herself against the building as if she were glued to it. Her heart froze within her chest and her bowels and legs liquefied. For reasons unbeknownst to her, she had always had a crippling fear of heights. Even after becoming a Slayer, when dropping up to sixty feet could be accomplished with little to no damage, she had retained this fear. She preferred to keep her feet no more than six feet above the ground at all times.

Had she not turned her head so as to not view the terrifying scene before her, she would not have glimpsed the white-haired man a few yards away. He saw her and gaped at her in bewilderment. Undoubtedly, he was shocked at her presence in this world. He recovered from his shock quickly, though, and immediately ran in between two buildings.

Alice forced herself to breathe and let go of the building she was clinging to like a lifeline. If she had any hope of recovering Jack, she would have to chase this man yet again. Trying her best not to think about the petrifying drop-off only a few feet away from her, she ran in pursuit of the white-haired man.

She stopped in front of the bridge the white-haired man ran across as her nauseous fear returned. It brought with it the awful gelatinous sensation that assaulted her legs. Her fear dwindled just slightly when she saw the man had joined up with two men in those horrid dark suits, dragging the unconscious form of her boyfriend up the steps of the building across the bridge.

"Jack!" she cried in a strange mixture of horror and relief. Her legs solid once more, she pushed herself across the bridge.

The doors to the building shut, closing Jack inside. She reached the porch and saw the doors bore the same white rabbit insignia she had noticed on the white-haired man's lapel: a white rabbit behind a large green shield bordered in gold, with an open eye at the center. A white banner ran across the shield with the words _White Rabbit_ written on it in large black letters. Alice did not know why, but she had a peculiar sense of déjà vu as she stared at the symbol. She felt there was something significant about this _white rabbit_. It was something she ought to know, but the thoughts were slippery as eels.

A strange whirring sound from above interrupted her musings. She walked to the porch railing to investigate. Alice gasped at the sight of a strange hovering craft with large wing-shaped structures projecting from the front of it. It was equipped with powerful search lights, which lit up the ground below and all but blinded her with their brightness. The wide shafts of light traveled the bridge and up the porch steps, catching the underside of Alice's right forearm which hung outside the protection of the roof. As she watched in fascinated horror, the light painlessly burned a bizarre green mark into her white skin. The mark nearly covered the entire surface area of the underside of her forearm. She hesitantly reached out her other hand to run a finger across the mark which curled down her forearm in winding tendrils. It felt like it had melded completely with her skin.

_Um, okay, maybe it's time to go inside. _She ran back to the door and, finding it to be unlocked, swung it open to step inside. No gun-toting men in dark suits had been waiting on the other side as she had anticipated. Instead she found herself standing alone in yet another long corridor. This one looked to have been invaded by the jungle. Vines draped the walls and floors, coating the place in a thick layer of greenery. At the end of the darkened hallway there was a room lit up with white light.

Not knowing where else to go, Alice walked toward it. As she got closer, she noticed there was a small table in the room with a small crystal bottle sitting atop it. It was halfway filled with red liquid. The room itself was free from the vegetation which occupied the hallway outside it. It had thick, white padded walls with what looked to be small metal mail slots in the middle of each wall.

Alice looked down at the bottle and flipped up the tag which had been tied around the neck. _Curiosity_, it read. She flipped it over to read what was on the other side and frowned when she saw it said _killed the cat._ _Curiosity killed the cat_. _Wow, isn't that the truth?_ Well, she was not curious enough to taste the red liquid so she set the bottle back down. Curiosity had gotten her into enough trouble as it was.

She walked over to one of the metal slots and kneeled down. She pulled back the panel and peered through it. There was a person curled up in the fetal position in a room very similar to the one she was in. He was dressed in a long brown over-coat, had shoulder-length filthy brown hair, and was wearing a pair of broken glasses. Alice gasped and her blue eyes widened considerably as recognition set in. This was the homeless man whom she had given apples to in place of spare change earlier in the day. On his face, curving around his eye and stretching from his cheekbone to his forehead, was the same green mark which had been etched into her arm.

"Oh my god. What's happened to you?" she whispered in dismay.

A door slammed. It had been the door to the room she was in.

"Hey! Let me out!" Alice screamed. She ran over to the door, slapping her palms against it.

The ceiling started advancing downward. She cursed and braced her arms against it, hoping her Slayer strength would be enough to keep her from being crushed to death. The problem escalated when the walls on the sides starting closing in on her.

"Stop!" she shouted. "Stop it! Let me out!"

The movement did stop. Luckily, it had only boxed her in an area that was quite a bit smaller than it had previously been. The table with the crystal bottle had mysteriously disappeared. She heard the _snick!_ of one of the metal panels being slid open.

The face of that damned white-haired man peered through the slot at her, looking eminently satisfied. "Good, we have her," he remarked unctuously.

"Who are you?" Alice demanded hotly. "Where the hell am I? What have you done with Jack?"

The man grinned dementedly. "Temper, temper. You shouldn't have come after me, little oyster," he chided.

"Hey! Come back, you asshole!" she shouted as the man's face disappeared. Through the rectangular slot, she saw the man saunter away, snickering to himself.

_I am going to beat him with that cane if I see him again_, she promised herself while cracking her knuckles.

The box lurched to one side, throwing Alice against the wall. It lurched again as it was lifted off the ground. She had frightening visions of it being dropped off one of those ledges or down a hill where she would be left to roll around inside of it until she vomited all over herself.

While the box moved forward to whatever destination these people had in mind, Alice was busy drawing up a plan to escape from this claustrophobic prison. She had decided punching through the walls or ceiling would be a last resort. If there were a less destructive way to accomplish what she wanted, she would rather try that route first. Also, one tended to accrue nasty splinters and gashes when punching through solid objects.

"Latch. Maybe there's a latch or something," she muttered to herself.

She pulled a pin from her dark curtain of hair, and started sliding it underneath the padding on the walls. When she reached a point of resistance that made a metal clinging sound, she smiled victoriously.

_Bingo._

She twiddled the pin around, eventually forcing the latch to slide to the open position. The bottom of the box swung open.

What she had failed to realize was that one of those hovering crafts was transporting her box over a large body of water. Consequently, her box was hanging hundreds of feet in the air. Alice yelped in surprise and fright, just barely managing to grab onto the side of the box as gravity enforced its will upon her. Hanging onto the edge of the box, she gulped and looked around her. There were dozens of other boxes, identical to one she had been trapped within, hanging right alongside her. One of them must have been carrying that poor, slumbering homeless man.

In spite of how much she wanted to, the girl knew she could not help him now. _I'm sorry_, she thought before she let go of the box and allowed herself to plummet into the depths of the lake.

The water was deep; deep enough to safely enfold a girl who had fallen hundreds of feet. Alice gritted her teeth when the slicing cold bit into her skin. She had not taken a breath when she had allowed herself to drop. Her absolute certainty that she was going to die from the fall had stolen all ability to breathe from her. She had merely closed her eyes and let herself take the plunge. She did not even know why she had let go. A split second after the decision had been made the girl had greatly regretted it.

Under the water, when Alice realized she was very much alive and very much in need of oxygen, she kicked her legs and moved her arms. The direction of the surface was not instantly obvious, but instinct knew where to take her. Breaking the surface had been glorious. She gulped up the air for a few minutes before taking stock of her predicament. She had dropped herself in the middle of the lake, it appeared. It was a big lake, too. With a doleful sigh, she aimed her body toward the land which had the towering buildings. She scissor-kicked her legs and began forward crawling to it. How long it would take to reach land, she could not say, but she was ever grateful for preternatural endurance. She knew how to swim adequately, but this was not something she did on an everyday basis.

_Let's just hope there are no giant squid monster-things in this lake._ That thought spurred her on faster.

The lake channeled into a network of canals that snaked throughout the city. The young woman swam to the closest approximation of a dock she could find, and hauled herself up onto the blessedly dry (but dirty) surface. Looking beside her, she recoiled with disgust when she saw a dead rat lying in a wire-mesh trap only a few inches from her face. Beyond that foul spectacle stood a pair of black boots. Alice tilted her gaze upward to find the owner of the black boots dressed in a black slicker and fisherman's hat. He had scraggly brown hair and a face full of dirt and stubble. More importantly, he was also brandishing a sharp knife and regarding her with fearful suspicion.

Alice quickly pulled herself to her feet, falling into a defensive stance. "Drop it! I don't want to hurt you."

The man's eyes darted to her arm, which was still plainly branded with the green mark. He looked back at her, alarm on his face. "You're an oyster!" he shouted accusingly.

Alice frowned. She remembered the white-haired man referring to her as such earlier. "No, I'm a girl, well, a human," she corrected him.

The man shoved his knife back into its sheath and began gathering up his nets and other tools. "I don't want nothing to do with yeh!" he snapped. "Oysters ain't nothin' but trouble. I'm a workin' man. I don't want no trouble, yeh hear?"

Just then, they heard the telltale whirring sound Alice associated with the weird hovering crafts. She backed away from the edge of the canal, watching as the craft carrying the dozens of boxes lumbered past the roofed dock area where she and the slicker man stood. The slicker man was terrified.

"If they see us together, we'll both be dead!" he whispered frantically. He scurried towards a maze of crates and nets behind them.

Alice went after him. "Wait! Sir, I need help!"

"Go away!" he ordered. "Can't help no oyster!"

_Why does he keep calling me that?_ Though she was extremely curious as to why she was being called what was, essentially, a shell with goop inside, it was not the most important issue at stake at the moment. She reached into her pocket, praying she had stashed some cash in there. She pulled out a twenty-dollar-bill. "I can pay you! Look, I have some money," she told him desperately.

The man stopped, appearing intrigued by the idea of money. Alice was happy to see greed cared nothing for which dimension it was in.

"What's that?" he asked, referring to the paper currency in her hand.

Her heart sank. "Twenty bucks," she said hopefully.

"Bucks?" he questioned, looking unfamiliar with the term.

_Crap._ She should have known her money would likely be useless here.

"Listen, I'm looking for a man who was kidnapped and brought here," she explained. "Could you please help me?"

The man observed her doubtfully. He shook his head.

"Please, I'll pay you back somehow. He'll pay you, I'm sure," she offered.

The man took a few minutes to consider it. She had no idea how she was going to pay him if her currency was of no value here. Alice only hoped the man was not smart enough to wonder how payment would be rendered.

She gave a silent cheer of relief when he nodded. "Thank you so much!" she cried. Beaming graciously, she held out her hand to shake his and introduce herself. "I'm Alice."

The man ignored her hand. He goggled at her in incredulity. "_The_ Alice? The _Alice of Legend_?"

"Um," Alice replied obtusely, unable to do anything but stare at him in incomprehension. "No, I don't think so. Anyway, the guy I'm looking for was probably in that flying beetle thing that I escaped from. Where is that thing going?"

The slicker man was beaming at her as if he had just found a rare jewel. He seemed a lot more thrilled about her presence than he had just seconds before. Her name must have had something to do with it. Whoever this _Alice of Legend _was, she must have been a popular character. The feeling of déjà vu assaulted her again. There was significance attached to the name _Alice_, but she had no time to dwell on it. Slicker man was on the move.

"You just come with me!" the slicker man said in a jovial voice.

His sudden change of attitude disturbed her somewhat, but what choice did she have? She may have possessed super-powers, but she was still stranded in a world she knew nothing about and with no knowledge of who she could trust. She could not expect that simply throwing around some kicks and punches would solve her problems. So, with extreme reservations, Alice followed the strange (and smelly) slicker man.

He led her up the levels of the city, stopping their journey beside a red telephone booth. About twenty yards ahead was a house which bore an eerie resemblance to the one Jack had been dragged into. There was a digital scroll bar mounted to the roof of the porch flashing the words TEA HOUSE in bright red letters. Before going further, the man she had followed pulled a red cloth out of his slicker and proceeded to tie it around her forearm. His intent was clear. He wanted to cover up the green mark which obviously marked her as an _oyster._

"They see you, oyster, you dead," he warned.

"Who's they? And why do you keep calling me that?" she asked.

The man ignored the questions.

"First, I go. Count ten, then you follow. Okay?" he instructed quickly.

"What? Wait! What's in there?" she questioned. She may have had little choice but to trust this man, but she did not want to just walk into a building with such paltry information.

He started running off, but at least he answered her question regarding what was in the building. However, the answer had not really been very informative.

"The man who knows!" he had shouted back.

"Knows what?" she called after him. He had already gone inside the tea house, though.

Alice gritted her teeth in frustration and counted to ten before summoning her nerve and sprinting across the walkway and into the house. What she found inside was noise, and lots of it. The scene looked like some bizarre alternate version of Wall Street, with people shouting at a screen which had various words and numbers flashing on it. They were holding up pieces of paper and waving their arms around wildly. None of them seemed to pay her any mind, which was just dandy with her. The less attention she drew to herself, the easier it would be to find Jack.

She carefully wended her way through the throngs of people, feeling absurdly out of place in her wet blue dress and sodden dark hair. Vaguely, she noticed that the floor was not composed of tile, linoleum, or wood, but of grass. She glanced up at the gigantic chalkboard standing at one end of the room where a man was continuously erasing numbers and writing in new ones in the grids drawn on there. Her sharp eyes read the words on the board.

_Bliss. Excitement. Passion. What the hell? Those aren't stock, those are emotions. That doesn't make any sense. _

Though thoroughly flummoxed (an emotion she was quickly becoming accustomed to, she lamented), Alice compelled herself to keep moving. Appearing to be overtly confused by everything might just draw the attention she was hoping to avoid. When she came across a section of shelves filled with bottles of various colored liquids, however, the labels on the bottles stole her interest completely. They were labeled with the same emotions she had seen written upon that blackboard. Unease slithered across her skin like spiders, making her shudder with disgust.

She tore her gaze away from shelves when she heard a queer thumping sound. All attention was now directed to the tiny man standing behind a podium at the front of the room. He was banging his mallet against the surface of the podium like a judge at court.

"I have an important announcement!" he declared in a high-pitched, nasally voice. "A new tea has just come on the market!"

Excited whispers followed that pronouncement. Alice listened with avid interest, though her apprehension grew with every word.

"Ever get that guilty feeling?" the little man asked knowingly. "Maybe you abandoned the wife and kids and left them without a crumb to split between them! Or maybe you killed someone! A relative or a neighbor. And it's left that niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach. And it's growing, little by little, into a dull, throbbing pain, gnawing away at you, undermining your confidence, and making you feel sick, and worthless, and fearful."

The room had grown unnervingly quiet. The man pointed his finger at them as if they were all guilty of such acts. Then he slapped the podium animatedly. "Well, fear no longer! 'Cause 'clear conscience' has finally arrived!" He produced a bottle of clear liquid from underneath the podium, and showcased it for all to see, a farcical grin on his face. "The latest wonder of wonders from that remarkable wonder of all wonders, the Happy Hearts Casino!"

After that, the miniscule man promptly fell asleep, bottle in hand. The noise resumed. Alice stood amidst the chaos, dumbfounded and horrified. A drink to clear the conscience? To excise guilt after committing a horrible crime? The young Slayer had never heard of such a thing, nor did she really think it was a good thing. After all, a person might convince himself to do anything if all he had to do to escape guilt was drink some tea with clear conscience in it.

She had never been more grateful to smell the unpleasant odor of the slicker man as he approached her from behind. He took her by the arm, and jerked his head back towards the direction he had come. "This way," he directed. She followed him, thankful to be leaving this madness behind her.

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Please Review!


	5. A Pretty Girl in a Very Wet Dress

Drum-roll! I know all of you have been waiting for this one's appearance, hehe. Thanks again to those who reviewed the previous chapter!

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**Chapter IV: **A Pretty Girl in a Very Wet Dress

It had been a very long time since Hatter had indulged in any of the emotional elixirs he peddled to the Wonderland populace on a daily basis. He preferred to keep his emotions, Wonderland bred and feeble as they were, tethered close. He knew, perhaps better than anyone, how dangerously addictive human emotions could be. The young man fashioned teas laced with heady cocktails of lust and passion, bliss and calm, confidence and self-importance. His customers soaked up those combinations swifter than sponges soaked up water. They always came crawling back to the Tea House with their palms held outward, begging for more.

They never lasted long, those manufactured emotions. It was a quick, colorful fix for a society languishing in the emotional gray zone. The intensity of the experience and the short duration kept him in business. But he had no wish to become as pathetically dependent upon stolen emotions as his patrons.

He was under no illusion that he was some kind of a saint. He knew full well these emotions were siphoned from people who had been abducted and stripped of their memories, their self-awareness, and their will. He tried not to dwell on it. There was nothing he could do about their plight. He had a head to keep upon his shoulders, yes he did. Self-preservation was one of the few emotions Hatter was intimately familiar with.

The absurd part about the whole situation was that Wonderland natives were perfectly capable of _feeling_ just as intensely as any non-Wonderland native. Unfortunately, it was not an ability which came so naturally or easily to them. The pure essence of an emotion was normally trapped within a net of twisted, nonsensical Wonderland logic. It normally took something quite extraordinary to evoke true, pure emotions from a Wonderlander. And, well, not many people were willing to wait around for a thing like that. It was far quicker and easier to just tap into the emotions of beings which were usually ruled by feelings.

Instant gratification; it was an easy choice for most to make.

It was abhorrent, but it provided a comfortable living for Hatter. It afforded him access to the finest teas Wonderland had available. Regular tea had become all but obsolete once the emotion-spiked teas came onto market. It was such a pity, in his opinion. The potent emotions siphoned from those ill-fated oysters polluted the taste of tea. And there were few things Hatter enjoyed more than sitting back in his comfortable chair and sipping on a cup of simple, unadulterated tea.

To top it off, while the queen of Wonderland believed him to be a loyal servant through doling out the drugs by which she kept her people under control, at the same time he was in cahoots with the faction of Wonderlanders who did not subscribe to this instant gratification ideal. Hatter had been working with the Resistance for quite a long time. He supplied them with food rations, supplies, weapons, and invaluable information. A double agent, some would call him. He supposed the term was fitting.

As it was, even he was not certain where his complete allegiance belonged. For the most part, he sympathized with the Resistance, but he always figured he would play both sides till the opportune moment, and then throw his lot in with the side which had the greatest chance at victory. He knew very well it was not an admirable plan. In fact, it was quite despicable. But, as mentioned before, self-preservation was always a high priority for Hatter. If he had had even the slightest inkling that all his plans were to go belly-up very soon, he would have thrown that damned rat-catcher out of his office the moment the malodorous creature walked in. Whatever deities there were (if there were such), they must have had one ironic sense of humor.

Ratty, as everyone called him (the man's real name had been lost to irrelevance), had claimed to have fished an oyster out of one of the putrid canals which flowed into the city. Not just any oyster, mind you. This oyster happened to be the _Alice of Legend!_

"Really? She told you that?" Hatter had asked skeptically.

The rat-catcher had shuffled his feet and conceded, sheepishly, that the girl had actually just said her name was Alice. He told Hatter the girl had pulled herself out of the canal after claiming to have escaped from the Scarab, which had just brought in a fresh shipment of oysters. She was looking for someone, a man who had been kidnapped and brought here, to Wonderland.

Escaping from the Scarab was an impressive feat, even by Hatter's standards. Oysters which were brought here were usually drugged and catatonic, to put it decently. Even when one did awake, there was often so much disorientation and confusion that he or she would barely be capable of lucid thought, let alone planning an escape. What, he wondered, was so special about this oyster that she was able to defy all those carefully constructed restrictions? At that initial, but critical, moment his interest had been piqued. He told Ratty to bring her in.

After Ratty left to fetch the oyster, Hatter settled himself in his high-backed white chair, swinging it around to face away from the entrance to his domain. He splayed his fingertips together as he contemplated how he would handle this meeting. An oyster running amok in Wonderland was a dangerous commodity. He would be risking his position on both sides by merely having her here, not to even mention helping her.

Further deliberation halted once she walked into his office. He did not even have to hear their soft footsteps upon the dirt pathway to know the rat-catcher had brought her in. He could feel the turbulence of her potent emotions radiating from her like the heat from a bonfire. He had not had much occasion to be around oysters, as they were all cooped up in the Happy Hearts Casino. The last oyster he had been in the vicinity of had been years ago, and that pitiful sod had been just about sucked dry of all his emotions. Hatter had shuddered at the way the man had stared blankly ahead, his mouth hung agape with a tendril of drool dangling from it. Therefore, he was unprepared for the effect a free oyster would have on him.

The rush from her riotous mixture of feelings was intoxicating to Hatter. There was confusion, revulsion, annoyance, and guilt there in spades. He could sense fear, but not as much as he thought he would. In fact, most of the fear she felt seemed directed elsewhere, as if it were not herself she feared for. Stifling the fear for herself was an unimaginable amount of courage and self-confidence. This was one brazen girl; borderline reckless, it seemed. There was also a heaping load of curiosity.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" he offered, keeping his chair facing the back wall.

A few seconds ticked by with no reply. There was a surge in the girl's confusion and annoyance. Finally, he heard her say, "Uh, no, thank you." Then, a few seconds later, "Who are you?" Her voice had a pleasant cadence to it, even if it did sound supremely irritated.

He swiveled his chair around to face her. "A friend," he replied suavely. "I hope."

The first thing to come to Hatter's shrewd mind was something really inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Nevertheless, his mind seemed to think it was of paramount importance.

His first observation was that the girl was absolutely gorgeous.

She was a little thing, but exquisitely molded with strong, supple limbs and a peerless complexion. In its current wet state, the blue dress she wore clung to her body in a most attractive fashion. Graceful curves sprouted out from underneath a narrow waist. Her legs were encased within some type of leggings of the most unusual pinkish-red color, but they did not hide how well-toned and shapely those lower limbs were. She wore purple, buckled boots, which seemed to complete the outfit in spite of their curious color. Her dark hair hung limp and damp down past her dainty, white shoulders.

Her vivid blue eyes narrowed at him, shrewdly assessing him. Hatter only wished he could read her mind as well as her emotions. On second thought, he was glad he could not read her mind. She did not appear to be thinking kind thoughts about him.

Ratty pulled the red scarf off of the girl's right arm, unveiling the telltale green insignia etched on the tender white skin there. She snatched her arm away from the man in annoyance.

Meanwhile, Hatter rose from his chair, telling the girl, "I run the teashop." He walked over to his desk and leaned against it.

"How did you break out of the Scarab?" he inquired.

"What, the beetle thing?" the girl asked. "I, ah, used my hairpin to trip the latch and, well, I..." She waved her arms around as if that gesture alone could convey what had occurred afterward. Luckily, Hatter was able to surmise for himself what must have happened. It did not take a brilliant master of deduction to infer that, from the state of the girl's clothes and hair, she had taken a rather impromptu dip in the lake.

"Fell," Hatter remarked, failing to keep the note of intrigue from his tone. A hairpin was all it took for her freedom? The girl was resourceful, too, he thought to himself. Bugger it all if he was not starting to admire her.

The girl nodded curtly. "Dropped is more like it. I let myself drop. And, as you can see, I'm drenched."

Hatter could indeed see that. He could see that very well.

The girl shivered a little. Whether it was from cold or distaste, he could not tell. Probably both, he decided.

"This place...it's so...what the hell is this place?" she demanded, sounding very distressed all of a sudden.

"Oh, this is Wonderland," Hatter replied matter-of-factly.

The girl gaped at him for a few moments before shaking her head in disbelief. She even laughed a little bit, as if everything was all some cosmic joke and she had just discovered the punch-line. "Oh haha, that's hilarious. And I'm guessing you're the Mad Hatter, judging by that hat on top of your head."

"Yep," Ratty interjected knowingly. "That's Hatter!"

The girl looked from the rat-catcher to Hatter, who stood with his arms crossed, a stoic expression upon his face. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers as the truth sank in. "Oh, come on! This can't be Wonderland. That's a...it's nothing but a kid's story," she sputtered weakly, shaking her head. "Oh Jesus, it all makes sense now." The girl slapped her forehead and groaned.

"Does this look like a kid's story to you?" he asked sardonically.

"No," she said in resigned agreement. "This world is nothing like a kid's story. Well, at least nothing I would let _my_ kids read if I had any."

Hatter plucked a magnifying glass from his desk and sauntered over to where the girl stood. "It's changed a lot since that book was written," he told her conversationally.

"What, so you're saying that book was _real_? I mean, that the events actually happened?" The girl stared at him in confounded incredulity.

Hatter nodded as he approached her. "You oysters don't know how to find us." He gently lifted up her arm with an "Excuse me" to inspect the thick green scrawl on her skin with the magnifying glass. "You tell yourselves we don't exist and, quite frankly, I'd like to keep it that way."

She yanked her arm back. "Okay, please explain to me this whole oyster deal. Why do you and this guy keep calling me that?"

She looked down at her forearm, her brow furrowed. Gesturing to the green mark there, she said, "What, is it _this_ that makes me an oyster? I don't get it."

Hatter smiled apologetically. "Yes, that's not going to come off, I'm afraid. Only people from your world turn green when burned by the light. It's the Suits' way of branding their catch," he informed her.

She groaned, giving her forearm a dismal look.

Walking back to his desk to return the magnifying glass to its place, Hatter continued speaking. "And they call you oysters because of the shiny little pearls you all carry inside."

The girl frowned in confusion. "And just what are these pearls?"

Ratty, who may have been feeling as if he had been forgotten (which may have been true on Hatter's end), seemed to decide it was time for him to join in on the dialogue. "But she's Alice!" he insisted to Hatter.

"Tell him who yeh are!" he urged the girl eagerly.

_Ah and here is the heart of the matter. Just who is this girl?_ Hatter did not believe she was the fabled Alice of Legend at all. He did not know much about the world the oysters hailed from, but he knew Alice was likely to be a fairly popular name for girls. The girl's name was probably nothing more than a coincidence.

"Wow! Really!" he piped in feigned wonder. He circled this proposed _Alice_ _of Legend_, stealing a glance at her lovely, firm backside as he did so. Alice, the legendary one or not, did not seem to notice that bit. But she did eye him warily as he walked around her. There was danger lurking in her gaze.

Settling himself next to Ratty, he clapped the man on the back. "Ratty here thinks you're Alice...of Legend."

"Let me guess, she's the kid from the story," the girl said dryly.

_Poor Ratty.__ Got his hopes up over nothing._

"The last time a girl called Alice came here from your world she brought down the whole house of cards, she did. Made quite an impression," Hatter explained, walking back over to face the girl.

The girl, Alice, snorted. "Right. Yeah, I think I'd remember something like that. Also, I'm not a blonde, as you can see."

Hatter shrugged. "Oh, and can't forget the most important detail. It was over 150 years ago. So, I hate to break it to you, Ratty, but it can't be the same girl. Oysters don't live that long."

Ratty deflated somewhat at that revelation, but not entirely. "I still want a good price," he said.

Hatter felt a wave of Alice's indignant fury wash over him. "Hey! I am not for sale!" she snapped.

He held up a finger to silence her, which, oddly enough, seemed to work for the time being. Ratty's smell was starting to offend his olfactory senses a bit too much for the time the man had been in his office. He wanted to send him on his way, and, if paying for this Alice _not_ of Legend was the way to do it quickly, so be it.

_Why are you doing this, you daft git?_ a voice inside questioned. _The girl's only going to be trouble for you. There's no reason for you to help her._ The voice, which may have been Common Sense, was correct. (Hatter was probably one of the few Wonderlanders to actually possess Common Sense. Without it, he would not have survived nearly as long as he had.) There was no reason for Hatter to help this wayward oyster. There was a veritable legion of reasons to send her packing along with Ratty. His rationale was inexplicable. In fact, there was no rationale in what he was doing. He could not adequately explain to himself why he felt not only willing to help this girl, but felt almost obliged to help her.

Hatter did not consider himself to be without pity or compassion. But that still would not justify him literally putting his neck on the line for a girl he had met only minutes before. He was attracted to her, no doubt there. What straight male in his right mind would not be attracted to her, especially in that scintillating wet blue dress? There had been other women before her he had been attracted to, and he certainly had not risked himself to help them with their problems for little personal gain. So, what was it about _her_ that made him feel compelled to help her?

_It's the emotions,_ he decided. Hatter had reveled in the taste of her emotions as they wafted over him. She probably had no idea how much her feelings blazed forth from her every pore. Wonderland natives had senses which were far more delicate than the average non-Wonderland native. Hatter's senses were probably keener than most others'. Certainly the bottom feeders outside his office clamoring for more emotional quick-fixes would have senses dead to all but their drugs. It was no wonder the girl had been able to waltz into the Tea House virtually undetected. It was ironic when he thought about it. The teas never had the purest form of emotions, and Hatter made a point to dilute the elixirs before they hit the market, so to speak. Here was an oyster who had all the purest emotions a tea-junkie could ever wish for, and he would probably never know it without seeing the mark.

Thus far, Hatter had received overwhelmingly negative emotions from Alice. It was no surprise, considering the girl was in a foreign world which made little sense to her and had just escaped imprisonment. She was lost, confused, and angry. She was desperately worried about this person, this man who had been taken from her. If Hatter lent his aid, he might be able to turn some of those negative emotions into positive ones. The distrust he sensed from her especially wounded him, though he knew she had every right to withhold her trust. He would not trust himself were he to be in her position. And, yet, he wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to feel it was safe to depend on him. If she trusted him, it would pave the way to other, more positive emotions he could feast upon.

In the meantime, Hatter had a rank-smelling rat-catcher to appease. He strolled over to the shelves at the back of his office where he kept a special collection of elixirs for exactly the same reason he was using it now. Ratty had started to follow him, but the teashop owner immediately snapped at him to keep off his grass. After a few moments of consideration, Hatter selected a bottle with a dark pink liquid swirling inside.

"Here we are!" he chimed. He held the bottle up for the enthusiastic rat-catcher to see. The man beamed excitedly. Alice merely frowned. Hatter was starting to think that was her permanent expression. That was a pity, for he thought her beauty would be better served by cheerful smiles.

"Mmmm," he said theatrically, waving the bottle around. "Pink nectar filled with a thrill of human excitement. Fifty oysters were drained of every last drop of hullaballoo that you, Ratty, can now taste. Now you can know what it feels like to win just once."

Ratty was practically drooling. His eyes followed the bottle as Hatter continued to swing it about in the air in front of him. He made a grab for it, but the younger man drew it back out of reach.

"Warning," Hatter said gravely. "Don't take it on an empty stomach and only one little tiny drop at a time. Otherwise the experience might burst your shriveled-up old heart. Got it?"

"Got it," Ratty said, practically drooling.

"Good." Hatter let the man have the bottle. "Now get out of here."

As Ratty scampered out of the room with his prize, Hatter shook his head in disgust. He sniffed his hand with a grimace. "He really smells."

Alice, meanwhile, was staring at him with a most dreadful expression upon her face. He really wished the girl would lighten up. "Oysters were _drained_? What the hell does that mean?"

For some reason, Hatter felt a shiver of fear from the tone of her voice. He had no idea what he could ever have to fear from a girl as petite as Alice, but something told him he should not underestimate her. He had a distinct feeling she would not care for the answer to her question, and he did not wish to be on the receiving end of her displeasure, especially when it was something which was not his fault. So, he opted for a change in subject.

"Ratty tells me you're looking for someone," he said. He walked over to his desk, feeling the need for a strong cup of tea.

His evasive maneuver did the trick. Hatter felt the suspicious rage recede to be replaced with anxious interest.

"Yes. Jack Chase. He was taken by a man with a white rabbit on his lapel and these guys in dark suits. I ran after him and those bastards tried to shoot me, but, well, long story short, I ended up here," she told him.

Hatter drew in a deep breath. If this Jack Chase had been taken by the White Rabbit, then he felt rather confident he knew where the man had ended up. There was only one place the oysters caught by the White Rabbit were taken to. It was not a place which was easy to get into, and it was a place which, as far as Hatter knew, was inescapable. The girl's situation looked grim.

"Well, the White Rabbit is an organization controlled by the Suits. They travel through the Looking Glass, which was the device that brought you to Wonderland. They travel back and forth to vanish people from your world to ours." He sipped on his tea, already knowing the question she would ask next.

"Why?"

"To use in the casino," he answered lightly.

"Use for what?" There was that deadly tone of hers again. He could hear her knuckles cracking from where he sat.

"Did I say _use_? I'm sorry, that was a slip of the tongue. I mean, they do take them to the casino, but they're fine, I swear," he assured her, hoping she could not sense the outright lie behind his words. Hatter was, if nothing else, a talented liar. "They're kept alive and moderately happy."

She appeared to accept his evasion for the moment. Whether or not she knew he was withholding key details (like the truth, for example) remained to be seen. She sighed dramatically, as if she had just come to a momentous decision. "Okay, how do I get there?"

Hatter blinked uncomprehendingly. Surely, she did not mean to go there and attempt a rescue? "Where?" he asked obtusely, though he already knew what she meant.

"The moon," she replied sarcastically. "Where do you think? This casino place." She sounded impatient.

Hatter pursed his lips. "Um, that's the thing. You don't. Get there, I mean. Way too dangerous."

The girl laughed humorlessly. "Oh, I think I can handle it."

Well, he stood corrected on his assumption about the girl being borderline reckless. She had demolished the border completely. Just how important was this man to her? Hatter did not think to ask what relation he was. Was he her brother or her father? Was he her lover? The last notion gave him an unpleasant, tight feeling in his chest for some reason.

"Um, right, and I'm supposed to be the mad one," he muttered dryly.

"Look," he said to her, walking up to her and tentatively grasping her shoulders. He was surprised his touch was not immediately shrugged off. "I know some people who, well, know some _other _people, if you know what I mean."

He leaned in a little closer, getting a whiff of her scent. Though it carried some of the essence of that filthy canal she had swam in, he could still smell her underlying scent. It was far more pleasant than the rat-catcher's. There was a mixture of vanilla, citrus, and lavender, with a subtle earthy smell as well. She leaned back, clearly not pleased with the invasion of her personal space.

"It's one of the privileges of owning a teashop," he said saucily, popping the p on the final word.

The girl's expression, if possible, soured even further.

"Lighten up," Hatter mumbled, drawing back.

Alice looked away from him, drawing her arms around herself and shivering. The action made him remember the girl had been running around, soaking wet, in the cool air for probably almost an hour now. She would have to be getting a chill. Thinking quickly, he ran over to his glass wardrobe which held a small collection of long coats. He selected a velvet one which had been dyed a deep purple color and presented it to her.

Her relief was palpable as she put the coat on. He even felt the tiniest smidgen of gratitude from her when she murmured, "Thank you."

While he lamented the loss of seeing her in that skin-tight wet blue dress, he felt obscenely glad to see her stop shivering. "You're welcome. You looked a wee bit cold there. It'll also help cover the glow."

She nodded, biting her bottom lip. "Um, I have a little bit of money, but, I guess that's no good here."

"Ah, yes, pieces of paper. Pointless," Hatter replied.

Alice sighed. "Okay, so, no offense, but, why are you helping me? What's in it for you?"

_Good bloody question_, he thought. _When you figure it out, you let me know._

"Do I need a reason to help a pretty girl in very wet dress?" he pointed out audaciously.

She scowled at him.

"You don't trust me, do you?" he remarked.

Alice did not answer immediately, but her hesitance had been informative enough. "It's nothing personal. It's just this is all so weird to me. I mean, Wonderland? The White Rabbit? I haven't read that book since I was a little girl and I haven't seen the Disney movie in years. I figured out that I was in some kind of different world after seeing that guy go into the mirror portal or looking glass or whatever. And, trust me, I know weird. I could write a book on it. All I'm saying is that I don't know what or who to trust, really."

Her solemn blue eyes locked onto his. They were writhing with a contradictive concoction of vulnerability, courage, hope, and despair. Hatter felt the most curious sensation then, as if his organs had just flipped over inside of him. It was a strange feeling, but not an entirely unpleasant one.

Alice paused for a moment as she searched him with her eyes. She cleared her throat before continuing. "But I'm blind here. I don't see that I have a choice but to trust you. I have to do what I can to find my boyfriend."

So the man was her lover. Really, Hatter should not have been surprised the girl would have a boyfriend. She was a young, beautiful woman. Of course she would have a boyfriend. It was utterly reasonable. He just had no idea why the information stung him so much. It brought on that same unpleasant, tight feeling in his chest. Perhaps he was envious. Hatter had no one he knew of who would risk so much for him. Whoever this man Jack was, Hatter hoped he realized how fortunate he was to have a girl such as Alice in his circle. He could only dream of having friends who cared half so much as she cared for this man.

Hatter sighed. He felt the need to reassure her. She looked as if she needed to know where he stood, otherwise she would be uncomfortable around him for the entire journey. Discomfort only bred further distrust, he knew. "Listen, Alice, do you know why they call me Hatter?" he said.

The girl blinked, the all-too-familiar frown wrinkling the skin of her brow. "Um, because you make hats?" she offered weakly.

Hatter rolled his eyes. "No," he told her. "It's because I'm always there when they _pass the hat._"

She raised an eyebrow at that, doubt in her gaze. Hatter could feel his charming quips were not going to earn this girl's trust. "I know what you're thinking," he remarked sagely. "But if I'm the frying pan, trust me, out there's the fire."

An expression flickered over the girl's face which told Hatter she did not quite believe him on that account. It did not bode well for the journey if she would not take the dangers of Wonderland, especially to a petite, female oyster, seriously. She looked to be on the verge of offering a comment, which, no doubt would have been a snide one. She must have thought better of it, however, for her lips remained shut.

"Look," Hatter began reasonably. This was the final card he would put on the table to convince her to trust him, if only in part. "I'll be square with you. I know people who like to help your kind. And, if every now and again, I scratch their backs..."

"They'll scratch yours," she finished. There was still hesitation in her tone, but significantly less than before.

"Yep. A lot of scratching," he said.

When she did not appear to find the humor in that statement, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, um, I guess we should be on our way then." He led her to the side door in his office, which opened to the outside.

Hatter opened the door with a pert grin on his face and a quick comment. "Do try to keep up."

* * *

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	6. A Very Dangerous Thing

Thanks again to my reviewers! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter V: **A Very Dangerous Thing

"Do try to keep up," he had said to her.

Alice could not help but bristle at the comment a little. She knew she should not take it personally. Hatter was not aware of her enhanced abilities. In all likelihood, the man would not even know what a Vampire Slayer was (or vampires, for that matter). Therefore, she had seen little merit in bringing the subject up. It would probably serve her better to remain, in his view, a weak, helpless female lost in a world which was, literally, out of a fairy tale (albeit a bizarre version of it) for the time being.

She still had some trouble wrapping her head around this place actually being Wonderland. But after she thought it over, taking into consideration the White Rabbit, the significance of her name, the oysters, and even Hatter himself, all the puzzle pieces _did_ seem to fit. It was not the picture she was familiar with, but he had told her things had changed tremendously since the time of this Alice of Legend. She, Alice Hamilton, was in Wonderland following the Mad Hatter (although he did not appear to use the superlative _mad_) to these mysterious _people_ who just might possibly help her rescue her boyfriend from some casino. A casino which was, according to Hatter, a very dangerous place where people from her world were drained for some purpose, though he had yet to explain to her what was being drained from them and what the purpose behind it all was. Her life had become quite surreal of late.

_Who am I kidding? My life's been surreal since I was fifteen years old. At least I had six years to get used to slaying vampires and demons._

She had no idea what to make of Hatter. Her instincts were twisted in a tangle of indecision over whether or not she should trust him or even like him. He had a certain charming quality to him, she admitted. She felt a little guilty in noticing he was rather handsome, in a rough cut sort of way. As far as physical looks went, he was almost the opposite of her chiseled and clean-cut boyfriend. Hatter was shorter than Jack, hovering over Alice's diminutive stature by a few inches whereas Jack towered over her by nearly a foot. His dark brown hair spiked up and curled around the brim of his brown porkpie hat. His rounded, boyish cheeks were coated with fine brown stubble. The crimson silk shirt he wore under his brown leather jacket was covered in a flamboyant, paisley pattern. His eyes were brown, but a darker, deeper shade than her boyfriend's golden cast. Hatter's eyes reminded her of dark chocolate, one of her favorite treats. Even his accent flew counter to Jack's. Hatter spoke with an accent strangely akin to the Yorkshire parlance from her world. Jack had always spoken in the cultured, high-class English accent which most Americans tended to believe all Brits spoke like.

Why was he helping her? Ratty had been dead serious about covering up the green tattoo on her arm which marked her as an oyster. As Alice understood it, oysters were supposed to remain captive in this casino. Hatter might be risking death to help her, and, while she was grateful, she wanted to know why. She did not completely buy the explanation he had given her, and she could not suppress the inkling that he was telling it to convince himself as much as to convince her. Did he expect some sort of payment or reward from her? She hoped the wet dress remark had merely been a jest because he certainly was not getting any payment in the form of sexual favors.

Alice was extremely frustrated over this issue of trust. He had ulterior motives which he would not voice. She knew absolutely nothing about this world, not having read the book since she was a child (and, apparently, the book would be useless anyway). She despised being forced to cut deals where only a few cards were thrown onto the table. It made her feel entirely too vulnerable. But, just as she had been left with no choice but to follow Ratty, she had no choice but to put her trust in this man. If he could bring her even one step closer to finding Jack and rescuing him, then she would follow him.

The door he had opened appeared to lead to nothing more than thin air until Hatter gestured to the ladder built in to the wall, the top of which started at the bottom of the doorway. He started to climb down. Alice bit back her trepidation and forced herself onto the ladder. She idly wondered if Hatter was peaking up her dress, and then decided she did not care. Let him look, if it pleased him. She had more important things to worry about than her modesty.

When Alice stepped down to solid ground and turned around, she gulped as that familiar liquefying feeling attacked her bowels and legs. Again she found herself on a ledge only a few feet wide with a deadly drop gaping at her.

Hatter had started to move along, but stopped when he must have noticed she was not following him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Alice forced herself to breathe. "Um, I have this...uh...thing about heights. You know, a phobia." She peaked out from under her white lids to glimpse down, which had been a mistake because it made her stomach churn with painful nausea. She snapped them shut again, feeling her entire body practically meld to the wall. "Why couldn't you guys have built the city on the ground?" she whined.

If she had wanted to perfect her image as a scared, helpless little girl, she was certain her crippling fear of heights would do the trick. It may have even worked a bit too well. A minute ticked by in silence where she wondered if Hatter had decided to renege on his decision. Then she heard him say, in a reassuring voice, "Look at me, Alice."

Her instincts told her to listen, to trust. Slayers followed their instincts. So, she opened her eyes and looked at him. His eyes were dark with concern and other emotions which had not been there before. There was sympathy there, but no pity. He was extending his hand towards her. "Just take my hand and try not to look down, okay. We'll go nice and slow," he said soothingly.

Trembling, she let go of the ladder and laid her small, white hand in his larger, dusky one. She focused on his face while controlling her breathing. He led her, ever so slowly, away from the wall.

He smiled at her encouragingly. "Look, see, we're doing it. Just one step at a time."

She exhaled. "I'm sorry. I can't even remember why heights scare me. They always have."

"Ah, well, everyone's got something they're deathly afraid of, I suppose," Hatter said.

"Do you?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment before he answered. "Um, well, just losing my head really."

She laughed a little bit. While it felt strange to be laughing when her entire body was almost paralyzed with terror, it also felt oddly wonderful. "At least that's a sensible one," she noted with a brave smile.

He glanced at the ring on her finger. Alice had all but forgotten it, which was strange considering that it was one of the reasons she was in Wonderland. She wondered if she should mention the interest the white-haired man had shown in the ring. Would the information be useful to Hatter? Ultimately, she decided she would leave the conversation for another time. It was all she could do at the moment to keep her will focused on moving her legs, anyway.

Alice did not know where they were supposed to be going. She was content simply to let Hatter lead her slowly along the very narrow ledge. He gave no sign of being frustrated at the lengthy time it was taking to reach their destination. He just kept talking to her in comforting tones, trying to keep her mind off the drop-off only a few feet away. After some unknown duration of time, she noticed they had reached a row of blue doors cut into white brick. They moved past a few of them until Hatter stopped her at one particular door, which looked no different than any of the others.

"Okay, why don't you just stand against the wall and I'll get us inside," he told her.

She pressed herself against the wall while he rapped against the door. She heard that all too familiar sound of a rectangular panel being slid open, which conjured up unpleasant memories of being trapped in that box with the face of the white-haired man sneering at her.

"I'm returning a library book. It's a work of Edwin and Morcar," Hatter said to whoever was on the other side of the door.

_Who the hell are Edwin and Morcar?_ Alice decided it was probably some kind of code.

An oily voice on the other side of the door replied, "And how does the little crocodile improve his shining tail?"

She gave up trying to understand the meaning behind the words at that point.

Hatter rolled his eyes in exasperation. "He pours water from the Nile on every golden scale."

Whatever that meant, it was apparently good enough for the man on the other side. He opened the door. Alice was baffled to find, however, that the door opened not to a room or hallway, but to what looked like the inside of a bus. Outside of the bus there was nothing but bright blue wallpaper, so she wondered where it was supposed to go.

_Up or down_, a little voice said inside her. _It's an elevator, silly, though a very weird one. But everything else in this world is weird._

"Hurry up," the man grumbled. He appeared to be in his seventies or eighties. His height and the lack of meat upon his bones gave him the appearance of a bean pole. He wore a threadbare brown coat and a strange, old-fashioned triangular cap that Alice thought people had not worn in her world since the 1960s.

"Well, good morning to you too, Duck," Hatter greeted with sarcastic jollity.

With a sickening lurch that threw Alice off balance and into a seat, the contraption starting moving downwards. She braced her hands against the backs of the two seats surrounding her, stifling the urge to cry out.

"It's all right," Hatter assured her.

She nodded, feeling quite displeased with herself. While she did not intend to showcase her preternatural abilities unless the occasion called for it, she certainly did not want him to think she was completely pathetic and helpless. He probably thought she was afraid of her own shadow by now. Thankfully, the movement eventually stopped and Hatter held out his hand to help her up. She accepted it. Though she would have been able to stand on her own, she was starting to enjoy the feel of his hand wrapped around her own.

As soon as that thought entered her head, she blushed. _Stop it, Alice! You're here to rescue Jack, remember? Your boyfriend whom you kind of snubbed and it's kind of your fault he's here anyway? Focus, girl! Focus! _She hoped Hatter did not notice the flush she could feel on her cheeks.

He did not. The reason he did not notice was because he was preoccupied by the figure standing in front of the door to the bus-elevator thing, leveling a shotgun at them and glaring at them suspiciously. It took Alice a few seconds to see that it was a woman who appeared to be in her fifties, with pointy glasses, an out-dated floral pattern dress, and grayish-brown hair pulled back in a severely tight bun. She reminded the girl of the stereotypical librarian spinster. The only parts which did not fit that image (aside from the shotgun, of course) were the frumpy ears she wore atop her head. Alice could not tell if they were short rabbit ears or long mouse ears. Upon further inspection she realized they were not ears at all, but actually the ends of a huge, crooked bow.

She glanced behind her and sighed in irritation when she saw that Duck the driver had pulled out a handgun. The girl had had more guns pointed at her in the past six hours than in the past year. It was starting to annoy her. These people did not give off a hostile air, however, only a wary one. Perhaps they were following some sort of protocol. She decided to withhold her urge to fight and held her hands up as Hatter did.

They emerged from the bus at gun-point with Hatter trying to speak reasonably. "Come on, Duck, Owl. Let's put those away. You know me well enough. And she can be trusted, too. You've got my word on that."

"We have our orders," Duck snapped sternly.

"Keep that right hand where we can see it!" the woman, Owl, ordered in a squeaky voice with a thick Scottish accent which bade Alice to wonder if this world had imported its entire people from the British Isles.

"It's just flesh and blood," Hatter mumbled insincerely. Alice frowned at that. What was so frightening about Hatter's right hand? She looked over at it, not seeing anything particularly out of the ordinary about it. As her companion had attested, it did appear to be mere flesh and blood.

Owl laughed dryly. "Yeah, right. We've all seen what you can do with that sledgehammer."

_Sledgehammer?_

"Did you like the box of comfits I brought you last week? And the cured meats? And the cheeses?" Hatter asked mildly.

"They're all gone," Duck reported sadly.

Hatter nodded in understanding. "Well, if you don't treat me with a little respect, you won't get another crumb."

He was feeding these people? Just what was going on here? Alice had a sinking feeling that whatever was going on under the scenes, it would complicate her plans in rescuing Jack from the casino.

A guilty grimace flashed upon Owl and Duck's faces. "Sorry, Hatter. We're all a little jumpy, is all," Owl explained apologetically as she and Duck lowered their weapons.

"Yeah, everyone's always a little jumpy," Hatter muttered angrily. He laid a protective hand on Alice's shoulder and jerked his head toward Duck and Owl, who were walking towards a hallway. She supposed they were meant to follow.

"Where are we?" she whispered in awe.

The building they were in looked like a library, but it was not the sort of library she had ever had the fortune to peruse. It was an extremely grand one; much like the ones which belonged in fancy academic places such as Oxford or Cambridge. The vaulted ceiling overlooked a large central room where thousands of books littered the ground in towering piles. Glistening, crystal chandeliers provided illumination over the central room and the landing they were on that wrapped around the upper levels of the building.

"The Great Library," Hatter replied grandly. "There's five thousand years of history hidden here. Art, literature, law; rescued when the Queen of Hearts seized power. She'd like nothing more than to see this burnt to nothing."

That would be a considerable tragedy, Alice noted. She had no knowledge of this world's history. This world was a piece of literature in her world, but here it had its own literature. For any world to lose that was a grievous crime. She drifted to the railing, resting her hands on it as she looked down at the piles of books. Her eyes widened when she saw there were people down there amongst the literary towers. Some looked very ill or injured, and were resting on pallets. Others were huddled together, wearing drab clothing and munching on food rations. It was a desolate sight.

"Who are those poor people?" she asked.

Hatter came up beside her, his expression grim. "They're refugees, those who don't want to be part of the queen's world of instant gratification. We give them shelter and try to feed them the best we can, but it is dangerous. If the queen found out, they wouldn't stand a chance."

She would have asked what he meant by instant gratification, but she figured there was probably a more appropriate time for such explanations. She had seen and heard enough to know there was some kind of deep unrest among the populace of this world. From all of it, she was able to gather that the government was a tyranny. Tyrannies, she knew, tended to breed revolution.

_Well, that's wonderful. You've landed smack dab in a world that's supposed to be fiction and you just happened to get here when there's all this political turmoil_ _going on. _She had no wish to become embroiled in whatever conflict was currently going on. She just wanted to rescue her boyfriend and be on her merry way. This was not her world, and, therefore, she had no place in its internal quarrels. But she could not suppress the feelings of sympathy, pity, and anger that those dejected masses conjured within her.

_What about your people who are trapped in that casino like Jack having god-knows-what done to them? What about that homeless man? You have a duty to them, as well. You're a Slayer, sworn to defend and protect humanity from the forces of evil. What difference does it make if what has imprisoned them is no demon or vampire?_

Alice gripped the railing as those thoughts skittered through her mind, unforeseen and unasked for. Freeing Jack sounded as if it was going to be tough enough, but freeing the rest of the people from her world on her own? That sounded downright impossible. But, could she, in good conscience, abandon them now that she knew they were here and in some kind of peril?

_Goddammit. Why does everything have to be so freaking complicated?_

"Why does she want to destroy all of this?" she inquired of Hatter.

He sighed regretfully. "Wisdom's the biggest threat. She controls people with a quick fix."

Alice nodded. Though she certainly disagreed with the principle, she understood its logic. She did not know what this quick fix entailed, but she felt it was connected to the oysters, who were the people from her world. Hatter had not said as much, but she could read the subtext behind his words well enough and piece everything together. Something the people from her world provided, these _pearls_ Hatter had referred to so ambiguously, were the source of the queen's so-called quick fix. So, what was it people from her world carried inside which the Queen of Hearts coveted so much? She felt as if the answer was there in her mind, but enmeshed within a thicket of confusion and disbelief brought on by her strange situation. It was just out of her grasp. If only she could isolate herself from this chaos and clear her mind.

"Alice?" Hatter's voice startled her. "Are you okay? You look like you went off into your own world there for a moment."

Alice drew in a deep breath, shutting out the image of those destitute innocents scattered amidst the piles of books. She looked at Hatter, his gaze both curious and concerned. "I'm fine," she assured him. He looked as if he did not believe her, but would resist further comment.

"Well, come on, we're going to see Dodo," he told her, leading her down the hallway.

"Who?"

"One of the Resistance leaders."

Dodo was not a name which inspired much confidence, in Alice's opinion. She was not a zoology expert, but she knew enough to know the dodo bird was long extinct and had had a reputation for being somewhat stupid. It was definitely not a name she would imagine would suit the name of a rebel leader. But, as a petite girl who packed quite a powerful punch, she knew how appearances could so easily deceive.

She and Hatter entered a stately room with a majestic tree shadowing an oaken desk topped with books and papers. (Alice figured she should stop being so surprised to find forests growing in the buildings.) There was an elaborate portrait of a castle covering an entire wall near the front of the room where Alice had entered with Hatter and their two escorts. The hard wood floor of the room was mostly covered by a thick, plush Persian (or, well, Persian-_like_) carpet. Owl walked over to stand by the desk with her shotgun held tightly to her body while Duck stood guard in front of the doorway. There was a man standing in the shadows behind the desk. Alice could see his stalwart silhouette and hear his steady breathing from where she stood. She gathered that this person was Dodo.

"Who's this you've brought, Hatter? And why?" a voice spoke from the shadows. It was deep and gravelly. It was definitely not the voice of a stupid person.

Hatter stepped forward, pulling Alice up with him. If he was nervous, he did well at hiding it. For her part, she was somewhat nervous. This person could make or break her success at getting Jack out of the casino.

"Her name is Alice," Hatter announced. There were a few sharp intakes of breath after everyone heard that. "She's an oyster who's escaped from the Suits' Scarab. She's looking for her boyfriend. Some bloke named Jack Chance."

She frowned in annoyance that Hatter had said her boyfriend's name wrong. "Jack Chase," she corrected. "His name is Jack Chase."

"She needs help," Hatter implored, not seeming to care or notice he had said the man's name wrong. "I thought of you, Dodo."

"Really?" the voice in the shadows said drolly. The owner of the voice materialized as he moved into the dim illumination thrown by the guttering light of the fire and the small lamp set upon the desk. He was a tall, rotund man with short, curly brown hair streaked with gray, shrewd dark eyes, and a graying beard. He was dressed in a long black leather duster. She had no doubt there were weapons stashed on his person. He halted directly behind the desk, standing ramrod straight with his hands clasped behind his back.

"And why would I want to help your oyster when bringing her here puts us all at risk?" Dodo asked dourly.

The young Slayer bristled at being referred to as Hatter's oyster, as if the man owned her. She did not care if he had used some kind of swirly pink liquid to "purchase" her from the slicker man.

Hatter scoffed at that remark. "Oh please, I've spent years smuggling far more dangerous things than this down here."

_Ha! Says you,_ Alice mused sardonically.

Dodo's smile lacked all amusement. He ambled around the desk to stand before the pair. "You know what rankles me the most about bloodsucking, carpetbaggers like you, Hatter?"

She felt Hatter stiffen beside her, no doubt taking some offense at those terms. Though she imagined there was a different, not-quite-so-literal connotation to the term bloodsucker in this world.

"Your gall," Dodo said scathingly. "While we risk our lives trying to bring freedom to ungrateful _leeches_ like you, you _swan_ about, living the good life. I haven't seen the light of day in over three years! And poor Owl here." Dodo paused to gesture to the little old woman standing comically poised with the shotgun clasped to her bosom. "She's forgotten what a vegetable tastes like."

"I remember kumquat! Is that a vegetable?" Owl piped up brightly.

Dodo grimaced and appeared to have pretended not to hear the question. Alice did not believe for a second that he really cared about Owl and her apparent amnesia where vegetables were involved. She also did not believe he had been stuck down here for over three years without seeing sunlight. His skin was not nearly pale enough to back that claim up. And she had cause to know, for she worked with people who had not seen the sun in centuries. Also, for living on meager rations as Hatter had implied they were, Dodo certainly seemed to be doing well enough, judging by his hefty appearance. When juxtaposed with Duck and Owl, who were both very thin, he may as well have been Jabba the Hut.

_I'm guessing Hatter isn't the only one supplying these people with food, but I'll bet Dodo hasn't told his lackeys that. _

"Stop your crowing," Hatter retorted. "You know I'm on your side!"

Dodo rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure you say that to all your enemies," he shot back caustically.

"I do what's necessary!" Hatter insisted hotly. "I kiss what arses need kissing so your machine stays oiled."

As much as she hated to interrupt the two men who clearly wanted to duke it out, Alice did not have the time for pissing contests. Jack did not have that kind of time. She could see the entreaty for Dodo's assistance was probably going to be a lost cause. Alice could feel it as the Resistance leader started walking away from them. She swallowed the hopeless lump which had risen in her throat.

"Look," she spoke up. "If you won't help me, I understand. I'll just go and find someone who will."

"Alice, don't," Hatter started to say.

"Headstrong, isn't she?" Dodo cut in with his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Cut the bullshit," Alice snapped impatiently. "Can you help me get Jack out of the casino or not? The answer is a simple yes or no."

"I don't see how," Dodo replied diffidently.

"The Resistance has contacts inside the casino, right?" Hatter pointed out.

Dodo's face twitched slightly. "No comment."

_Well, that was a loud yes_, Alice thought to herself.

"Use them to find her guy," Hatter suggested. "She can pay you."

Alice's head snapped over to face him, eyes widening in shock. She thought the subject of payment had already been covered on Hatter's end. What was she supposed to pay this man with if her paper money was, as Hatter put it, pointless?

His next words, however, sent a cold, sharp feeling through her chest. "I want my usual cut, up front."

Alice clenched her fists and pursed her lips as the bitter feel of betrayal descended upon her. She could not disguise the hurt on her face as she looked at Hatter, who kept his gaze straight ahead. Why did she feel so betrayed? She should have known he was going to expect something in return for helping her. His motives _had_ been suspiciously obscure. What was wrong with her? What had she expected from him?

_A friend, I hope._ His words had been a joke, obviously.

"Pay me?" Dodo mused cynically, stroking his beard. He walked back around the desk, his expression contorted into a skeptical frown. "Pay me with what?"

Hatter sauntered over to Alice's left side. "Show him the rock, Alice," he instructed.

Stunned, she stared at him. "What?" He clearly must have been joking.

"The ring," he stated seriously. "On your finger."

She glanced over at Dodo, who appeared to be intrigued. Looking back to Hatter, she exhaled tensely. "No, that is off-limits," she said tersely.

"It's all you have, Alice," he said in a low voice.

"No!"

Dodo, meanwhile, had marched right over to the girl and snatched up her hand before Alice could even so much as finish the word _no_. He held her hand up, his fingers gently caressing the ring. She saw his face ripple from bland curiosity to a full, thunderstruck expression of disbelief.

"Impossible!" he exclaimed dramatically.

She pulled her hand away from the man, glaring at him.

"Where did you get that ring?" he demanded imperiously.

She stiffened, balling her fists. "It's none of your business. It's not for sale."

"Where did you get it?" Dodo repeated, this time in a roar.

"What?" Hatter asked in confusion.

Dodo grabbed for her hand, but she artfully evaded his grasp. He huffed and narrowed his eyes at Hatter.

"Your oyster is wearing the Stone of Wonderland!" he announced accusingly.

_Well, there it is. I knew it was enchanted. Stupid ring._

Hatter's eyes widened and his gaze snapped over to Alice with the same thunderstruck expression Dodo had been wearing. He shook his head slightly. "That's impossible."

"I'm never wrong," Dodo declared in a rough voice. He started edging closer to Alice. Instead of backing away from him as the man had probably expected, the girl stood her ground, however.

"Where did you get it, Alice?" Hatter asked.

She sighed. "Jack gave it to me, okay?"

"Jack who?" Dodo asked.

"Jack Chase! The guy I'm looking for!" she exclaimed.

"Well, where did he get it?" Dodo inquired suspiciously. His face was starting to achieve a mottled, puce-colored look. It was not very becoming.

"I don't know!" she cried in defense.

"Give it to me!" Dodo demanded.

Alice's eyes flashed dangerously. This intimidation stopped now, she decided. "No. And you better back off or I'm going to get real pissed off." She resisted the urge to finish the statement with _and you wouldn't like me when I'm pissed off._ The pop-culture reference would be lost on them, anyway.

Dodo growled wordlessly and stalked away from her. "Take her out!" he ordered. Owl shakily aimed her shotgun at her, her eyes wild with the notion that she was about to do something she clearly did not want to do. Turning her head to look behind her, she was surprised to find that Duck had not drawn his own weapon. She supposed a shotgun blast to the chest or face was considered to be adequate to kill one female oyster. But before Alice could even so much as flex a muscle, Hatter did something which shocked and amazed her, altogether causing her to reconsider her previously unfriendly thoughts about him from his earlier actions. He stepped out in front of her, effectively stationing himself in between her body and the shotgun aimed at her chest. He deliberately had put himself in the path of fire.

"Stop!" he cried, stretching his hand out toward the imposing barrel of Owl's shotgun. "Just wait."

"You're in way over your head, Hatter," Dodo growled menacingly.

"Just let me talk to her," Hatter said frantically.

Dodo pulled a handgun from a side holster hidden within his leather coat. He aimed it at Hatter with a deadly expression on his face. "It controls the Looking Glass," he stated. "You know that."

While Hatter stood, shielding her and trying to negotiate a truce, Alice had her mind on anything but diplomacy. She had seen the mad gleam of hunger in Dodo's face. He would definitely have no problem cutting off her hand if that was what it took to get the ring. And it did not take a genius to see there was a simmering pot of animosity and resentment between Hatter and Dodo. There was no doubt in her mind that if the younger man continued to stand between the Resistance leader and the thing he coveted, there would be blood. She quickly glanced around her, taking stock of things she could use to her advantage. If Hatter could convince Dodo to put down his weapon, more power to him. She did not hold out much hope for that, though.

"Come on, put the gun down. I'm sure we can all get what we want here," Hatter pleaded.

"We've been waiting for years for a break like this! And now it just falls right into our laps," Dodo sneered. "If we can return the oysters back to their world, we may be able to save ours. Just think about it! The queen reduced to mopping floors. It'll be just like the old days! With justice, reason, and the rule of law. Just think of it, Hatter!"

"I'm thinking you need to put the gun down. You're scaring everyone," Hatter said calmly.

"Hatter," Alice said warningly. She did not like how close he was getting to Dodo with the gun aimed so perilously at his chest.

"Alice, let me handle this. I'm not going to let them hurt you," Hatter assured her, looking back at her.

"Get out of the way, boy!" Dodo hissed. "I will shoot you if I have to." His eyes glinted in a way as if to beg Hatter for any excuse to pull the trigger on him.

Hatter scowled at Dodo and then made a grab for the gun. Alice lunged forward to yank him out of the way, her heart pounding at an unprecedented speed. Unfortunately, she had not been as close to Hatter as Dodo had been, and she had not been faster than his trigger finger. The shot pierced the air and echoed throughout the halls. The force of the bullet at so close a range sent Hatter soaring backwards into a small tower of books. He collapsed on the floor with several tomes littering his prone form.

"No!" Alice screamed as shock and unexpected anguish tore into her.

She saw Owl snatch her shotgun back to her body, her face twisted with horror and shock. "You shot Hatter!" she screeched.

_I'm going to kill this man_, Alice found herself thinking. A rage unlike anything she had ever felt ignited within her blood. She turned her gaze to Dodo, who was staring at where Hatter lay beneath what once had been a standing tower of books. A mixture of triumph and chagrin had formed on his face.

"We don't need him anymore," he declared. "The ring is our ticket out of here."

Red haze filled her vision and all thought flew from Alice save for those involving what pain she could inflict on this person. "Now, you've really pissed me off," she hissed.

Before Dodo could even lift the gun up to aim at her, she slammed her boot into his chest. The man flew through the air as if weightless, slamming into the wall at the back of the room. The wall cracked from the momentum and some portraits fell from where they hung to land on Dodo's head. Alice leapt over the desk, quickly noting the gun had fallen from his grasp and scattered across the floor. She stomped over to where he was crumpled against the wall, dazed but still conscious, and hoisted him up in the air. His eyes bulged out in terror and his jaw hung agape. No sound or breath issued forth from his mouth.

Holding him in the air, she turned and then slammed his body against the top of the large desk. Books, papers, and the lamps were sent crashing to the floor.

"Impossible," she heard him choke out. It must have been his favorite term, Alice figured.

"You shot my friend," she said flatly. "Give me one good reason why I should not crush your fucking windpipe." To emphasize how dangerously serious she was, she stretched her small hand around his meaty neck, using her thumb and index finger to apply pressure to both of his carotid arteries as well as digging her sharp little nails in for good measure. If she held it long enough, the lack of oxygenated blood going to his head through the two main arteries would cause him to lose consciousness.

"Alice!"

The voice which cried out her name was very familiar, but it could not be who it sounded like. To quote Dodo's favored term, it was _impossible. _Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes, wondering if maybe she was just hearing things she wanted to hear. When the voice repeated her name in a placating tone, her eyes snapped open. The girl looked up and felt all breath leave her lungs.

"Hatter?"

* * *

I could have saved Hatter from getting shot, but I figured it was a good opening to unleash the wrath of Alice, hehe.


	7. Cutting Some Losses

Well, I'm glad to see that everyone enjoyed the wrath of Alice, hehe! Thanks for the reviews and the support!

* * *

**Chapter VI: **Cutting Some Losses

Hatter never thought Dodo would actually shoot him. Though the dislike the Resistance leader held toward him was completely mutual, there had always been an understanding between the two. Dodo knew what role Hatter played; deceptive as it was, it had been vital to the Resistance. Certainly Dodo and other members of the Resistance had resented Hatter and the lifestyle he had access to simply by parading around as a loyal subject of the Queen of Hearts. Few of them understood the keen line of peril Hatter had always walked. He literally straddled the boundary between two dangerous and opposing sides with the promise of retribution from either one should he fail in his endeavors. He had at least figured that would have garnered a little appreciation.

He did not even know why he had grabbed the gun, or why he had put himself in the path of fire in the first place. All Hatter could think about was that they were going to shoot Alice. Logical thought had not played a role in his actions. An emotion he had never felt so strongly in his life had overcome him. At first, he thought it was one of the emotions he was experiencing vicariously through Alice. He was wrong, though. This emotion originated completely from him. It had set his heart to racing at a wild rate and his veins to feel as if ice water had replaced the warm blood which had previously flown through them. This emotion had instigated his legs to move in front of her, shielding her from the gun with his own body.

This was absolutely insane. His own actions flabbergasted him; mostly because they directly contradicted what had heretofore been his primary concern: self-preservation. He had only met the girl that day, and only a few hours before, at most. It gave him cause to wonder if he had accidentally slipped some crazy emotion cocktail into his morning tea rather than the usual dollop of honey.

Whatever the cause of his actions, Hatter had reaped the consequences. When the gun went off, all he could recall were the extremely loud sound and the sharp pain exploding in his left upper pectoral muscle. He had not even realized he had been thrown back into a pile of books at first. The force of the shot had compressed all the air from his lungs. It took a few moments, after he had been sent hurdling backwards, to remember how to breathe properly. It took a few moments more to realize the bullet had not penetrated his flesh. The body armor Hatter wore under his shirt had stopped the path of the bullet, though it did nothing to protect his body from the brute momentum. He would definitely have an angry bruise there by later in the day. Nevertheless, an angry bruise was far better than an angry, gaping hole. Never had a purchase been more wisely made, he thought to himself dryly.

He vaguely heard the voices of the other occupants of the room. His brain was currently too addled at the moment to comprehend what they were saying, but he hoped it had something to do with Alice being gone from the room. If the girl had any sense in that lovely head of hers, she would have run once she saw Dodo shoot him. Of course, the burly Resistance leader would likely have pursued her had she run. So, if Dodo was still here, then Alice probably was still here.

_Alice, run!_ He wanted to scream. But he knew if he spoke or gave any indication of being alive, Dodo might be possessed to put a bullet in his head. So, carefully, the young man reached inside his jacket where he had his own handgun holstered. He stifled the grunt of pain which yearned to spew forth. The pain from the bullet's momentum was radiating throughout his entire body.

A loud thump followed by a strange sound of something cracking made Hatter forget his physical pain. He latched onto the gun and lunged to his feet, emerging from the pile of books, his face panicked. His jaw dropped in pure bewilderment when he saw what had caused those strange sounds. Dodo (who was, by no means, a little man) was crumpled against the wall on the far side of the room. The wall behind him had dented and cracked as if the man had been slammed against it with great force. Hatter had only seconds to wonder how that had happened when he saw Alice, completely unharmed, nimbly leap over the large desk. He watched with wide, disbelieving eyes as the small young woman yanked on the front of Dodo's jacket and effortlessly lifted him above her own head.

Hatter was at a complete loss for words, so incredulous and astonished was he.

Alice half-tossed and half-slammed Dodo against the desk, which sent a flurry of papers and books crashing to the floor. The lamp on the desk rolled off of it and crashed to the floor, its light flickering out. She did not even see him standing there, but he could see her very well. He could feel her fury blazing from her more than he could feel the heat from the fireplace. Curiously, in addition to rage, he also felt an undercurrent of grief. It was the fuel which fed her wrath. Its presence puzzled him. Surely the grief could not be for him, could it?

"Impossible," he heard Dodo cry out in a choked voice.

When Alice spoke, her voice was so utterly different from her normal speaking voice. He had heard mere echoes of this tone before in his office. Now that he heard it in its full capacity, he shuddered. It was a tone to inspire a quaking fear within the bravest of men. Oh, how he had vastly underestimated this girl.

"You shot my friend," she had said to Dodo in that terrible tone. (Hatter could not help but feel a flower of warmth in his chest when he heard himself referred to as a friend.) "Give me one good reason why I should not crush your fucking windpipe," she added, her voice brooking no misinterpretation of the threat as a bluff.

When he heard her say that, Hatter knew he would have to intervene. Though he certainly had no love for Dodo, he did not want Alice to outright murder the man in vengeance. Something told him she would deeply regret such an action later once the heat of her emotions passed.

"Alice!" he cried desperately.

The girl paused with a great deal of heavy breathing, but she did not look up. Hatter shouted her name again, this time stepping forward. She was persuaded to look up then. Her jaw dropped when she saw him, her wide blue eyes losing their enraged gleam and sliding into confusion and shock. It was obvious Alice had believed him to be dead or, at least, close to it. Hatter could not blame her for that. She was not aware of the extra addition to his wardrobe underneath his shirt and jacket.

"Hatter?" she stammered in disbelief.

He nodded weakly. "Come on, let him go. We should get out of here."

She looked down at the man which she held down on the desk with only one hand as if it were the first time she had seen him there. Her rage was receding and a strange, giddy relief mixed with bafflement was taking its place. She took her hand away from Dodo's neck, and the man wheezed in his own sense of relief at not having his throat crushed. Alice stepped back from the desk, her expression dazed. She looked up at Hatter again with an almost beseeching look in her eyes.

He held his hand out to her. "Come on, Alice. Let's go."

A great deal of coughing emanated from Dodo as the girl walked around the desk to stand by Hatter. The portly Resistance leader sat up, his hand caressing his red and soon-to-be bruised neck. He glared at the pair. "Smuggled more dangerous things, ha!" he rasped ironically.

Dodo's gimlet stare bore into the two as he issued a threat of his own. "You let her leave with that ring and I'll have every member of the Resistance hunt you down like a dog."

Hatter knew that was no idle threat. He was not sure how far up in the ranks Dodo had managed to climb, but he knew it was high enough to wield dangerous influence. Even so, he held up his gun with a steady, determined look on his face. "Do not even think about following us. Or, I swear, I'll finish what she started with a bullet in your head," he promised.

The two slowly backed out of the room, neither of them apparently trusting Dodo to not shoot them in the backs as they took their leave. The large man stayed where he was, clutching his bruised neck atop the desk. No one, it seemed, wanted to try to run after them. Hatter could not blame them after seeing what this little oyster was capable of.

Once they reached the elevator, Hatter slammed the door shut, holstered his gun, and immediately engaged the controls, sending them lurching upwards. The loud groans from the machinery made him cringe. This contraption had needed replaced for a while.

Taking a deep breath, he slid down to the floor, resting his head up against a leather seat and closing his eyes. Extreme fatigue assailed him then.

"You're not bleeding. How?" he vaguely heard Alice ask.

"Oh...I...uh," he stammered.

Before he could even fashion an explanation, the girl had taken the liberty of finding out for herself. She waltzed over to him and brazenly pulled his shirt open to expose the black body armor vest he wore underneath. The bullet, now distorted from its original shape into what amounted to an amorphous metal blob, had lodged in the narrow upper right portion. A little further to the left and the slug would have penetrated his flesh. He had not realized before how close it had been.

_Wow, was I lucky._

"A Kevlar vest? Why are you wearing a Kevlar vest?" Alice asked.

She sighed and let go of the lapels of his jacket. Standing up and grabbing a handrail she pulled herself down to sit in the driver's seat. She massaged the bridge of her nose wearily. "Never mind. Why wouldn't you be wearing a Kevlar vest with the people you deal with?" the girl muttered.

Hatter had no idea what a Kevlar vest was, but he was astute enough to guess it was probably the equivalent of body armor in her world. When he looked up at her, he started when he saw her staring at him, her blue eyes narrowed dangerously. Her gaze was filled with hard anger; anger which was directed at him. He gulped nervously. After seeing what she was capable of, he was now certain that he definitely did not want to be on the receiving end of her ire.

"You lied to me," Alice said coldly.

"I was trying to help you!" he retorted defensively.

"By selling the ring...without even consulting me beforehand?" she sputtered. "I thought you said you were taking me to people who liked helping my kind? Well, it seemed to me like they didn't much like helping anyone."

Hatter groaned in pain as he tried to pull himself up. His left pectoral muscle protested painfully at the attempt, sending him sliding back to the floor.

"I didn't know that ring was the Stone of Wonderland. I've never actually seen the bloody thing," he admitted. His eyes were squeezed shut as he grasped the area where he had been shot.

"Well, you could have asked or...told me what you were planning," Alice caustically pointed out.

He gritted his teeth. "Firstly, I didn't really think up that part until after we were moving along. Secondly, would you have come if I told you anyway?"

"I don't know. That's not the point," she replied churlishly. "What is the Stone of Wonderland? And tell me the truth."

Hatter grimaced through the throbbing pain. "It's like Dodo said. It controls the Looking Glass. It powers it. It was mined by the ancient Knights a long time ago."

"Knights? What Knights?" Alice asked.

He waved his hand dismissively. "They were wiped out years ago by the queen. She took the Looking Glass and the Stone from them."

She was shaking her head, as if she did not understand what he was telling her. Holding up her hand to study the stone, a strange gleam came into her eyes. "I knew this thing was enchanted! Uh, I knew it!" she declared in a mixture of triumph and despair. She slapped her hands down upon her lap, curling her fingers. He sensed a great deal of frustration from her.

"Well, are _you_ going to explain to me what that was back there?" he asked sharply. He had not forgotten about how she had so easily lifted Dodo above her head and practically threw him on the desk. He also had a strong suspicion she was responsible for the huge dent and crack in the wall at the back of the room. As little as he knew of oysters, he knew none of them (especially the females) were supposed to be so strong. He doubted they would be so easily attainable if that were the case. She had concealed her strength from the beginning. While she had never seemed completely helpless, Hatter had assumed she would be as weak and vulnerable as any girl, and he had felt protective of her because of it. When she had cowered in fear against the ladder after seeing the drop-off, he had been softened by sympathy for the girl. She had had him completely fooled!

"What was what?" She asked, her brow furrowing into a frown of confusion. She honestly appeared, for all intents and purposes, as if she was unaware of what he was talking about.

He shook his head as thoughts turned, unbidden, into angry words. "What was _what_?" he sputtered in disbelief. "What do you think? How the hell did you lift up a man who was about three times your size? That's what! And I suppose that fear of heights thing was put on for my benefit, too!" As soon as he said the last words, however, he regretted them. The fear in her eyes had been far too genuine for it to be an act. Hatter was quite adept in judging truth, which was partly why he was so skilled at twisting and concealing it. It was very difficult to lie to him.

Comprehension dawned upon Alice. "Oh, I am afraid of heights, I assure you," she said quietly. "But, as to..._that..._well, I didn't really mean to, um, get carried away like that. I just got really angry. I thought the bastard had killed you." She looked away from him then, pink tingeing her pale cheeks.

He felt his heart thump giddily at those last words, but he had no wish to investigate the reasons as to why her admittance made him feel that way. He also forced himself to stop picturing himself in her position, thinking _her_ dead by Dodo's hand and how he would have reacted. Such thinking led to a place of peril, he felt. It was emotional territory a Wonderlander like him had never ventured. He steered his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"So, were you ever planning on telling me how strong you were?" he inquired mildly.

She bit on her bottom lip, an act which Hatter found all too enticing for some odd reason. He had to look away from her before his thoughts ran away with the reins again.

"Um, well, it's...ah...complicated. It's not something you just lay on the table when you first meet a person. It tends to freak most people out," she explained apologetically.

Hatter could only concede that point to her, as he, of course, had never mentioned his Sledgehammer right arm. His right arm was enhanced with a great deal of strength; enough to crack a pillar and severely dent a wall, if not punch through it (provided the material was not solid stone or brick). His right hooks were notorious for knocking people clear off their feet. But that was the only part of his body that had such immense strength. There was no way he could have lifted Dodo clear into the air without some serious effort. In fact, he was not at all confident he _could_ lift a man of Dodo's size into the air. Throwing someone across a room with enough force to dent and crack a wall was definitely far beyond his abilities.

The elevator heaved to a stop, which meant they had reached the level where they had first entered the building. While it could not have been more than an hour ago, it seemed like it had been ages since they had first stepped upon this contraption. He caught Alice's gaze. The girl looked a little contrite, but he did understand now why she would have concealed her surprising physical strength. He supposed he was angrier at being completely taken off guard by it, rather than the imagined deception. It did not appear she had willfully deceived him, but was merely holding onto information until a more opportune moment. Certainly he had committed a similar offense against her with trying to sell off her ring and take a cut of the money. In retrospect, that was probably worse, considering her unimaginable strength had little relevance to the situation.

"Any other super powers you might be hiding under that dress?" he asked laconically.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

He held his hands up. "Hey, we're stuck with each other for a while and I think it might do us some good to be honest with each other from now on. I acted a little selfishly up there, I admit. I apologize about that. I swear I had no idea Dodo would, well, try to kill you for the ring, which, I remind you, I did not know was the Stone of Wonderland."

Alice was silent for a long moment before slowly nodding her head in acquiescence. "Okay, I'll explain it to you later. I warn you, though. It's a long and complicated story and I think it's better told when we're not dodging bullets and such." She paused, a humorless smile tipping up the corners of her soft, pink lips. "You probably won't understand it anyway."

Hatter cocked an eyebrow in intrigue. "Oh, I think you'd be surprised, dear Alice."

She quirked a weak smile and looked down at her feet. "Thanks," she murmured.

Hatter frowned. "For what?"

Alice snorted sardonically, meeting his gaze. "For taking a bullet for me. What else? Even though I guess you knew it probably wouldn't kill you I still appreciate the gesture all the same."

The unexpected gratitude washed over him, dulling the pain in his chest and shoulder by a modicum. "You're welcome," he replied hesitantly. He found it odd the girl was thanking him for defending her when, apparently, she had no problems defending herself.

The girl stood and offered her hand to Hatter, which he accepted gratefully. She helped pull him to his feet, mindful of his minor injury, though the incessant throbbing had finally reduced itself to a dull ache. With time, the ache would become intermittent twinges of pain. He could not say he was looking forward to the inevitable purple-black mark, but he was grateful that was all he took away from the gunshot. It could have been much worse. The gun could have been aimed a little bit further to the left or higher and then where would he be? Most likely he would be dead and Alice would have been left alone in this foreign world.

They made their way to the entrance. Alice opened the door to the purplish gray-cast skies of Wonderland and judiciously stepped outside. Hatter stepped out behind her, blinking his eyes repeatedly. He looked to his companion, wondering if she would succumb to her strange, deep-seated fear of heights.

"Crap. I forgot you people built your city a mile above the ground," she muttered.

Hatter grabbed her hand and gently pulled her around to face him, seeing the terror she sought to smother in her face. He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them gently. "Look at me, Alice. It's just like we did last time. We'll try to take it nice and slow. We're going to go back to the shop," he told her calmly.

She nodded, sucking in a tremulous breath of air. Her blue eyes regarded him with trust, which made his heart swell unfathomably. When she looked at him like that, it was easy to forget the reasons she was here, seeking out his help. It was easy to forget she was claimed by another man, this Jack Chase whom she sought to rescue from the Happy Hearts Casino. It was easy to forget just about anything save for those wondrous cobalt eyes, the perfect white skin, those soft, inviting lips...

_Oh no, stop it, Hatter. You're just letting your libido do the thinking. Blimey, you'd think you'd done a line of Lust and Desire tea or something. _

He loosed a fake cough and forced himself to look beyond her. There was a peculiar flighty sensation swirling around in his gut. It only started to subside when he made himself remember who she was, who he was, and why she was there. It also helped for him to remember he was likely now an enemy in the eyes of at least those of the Resistance who were under Dodo's control.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He emitted a nervous chuckle. "Oh, yeah, I'm just thinking about the best route to take, you know. Maybe one that won't involve walking so close to the ledge."

That was an outright lie and he felt bad for speaking it, but he did not know what else to say. Surely she would laugh at him and spurn him were he to tell her the true thoughts of his mind. He was not even sure he knew his own mind anymore. He had taken a bullet for her down in the Great Library. The Hatter from yesterday would never have imagined such a thing. In fact, he would have spewed out the tea he had been drinking whilst laughing at the absurdity of such a notion.

Oh, he could really use a nice cuppa about now.

They started walking back to the Tea House. Alice eventually let go of Hatter's hand to follow behind. She seemed more confident in her steps, definitely more so than when they had been journeying to the Great Library. Still, she kept at least one hand in physical contact with the building, and she was careful to keep her eyes ahead. She would not allow them to trail to the side.

"The Looking Glass is the only way to get you back home," Hatter informed her. "It's in the city, but it's heavily guarded round the clock."

He ignored the unpleasant feelings which arose when he thought about her returning to her home world. Really, this oyster stirred up more emotions within him than he had ever felt in the whole of his existence. While at first it had been rather enjoyable to experience untainted, undiluted emotions from their original source, now, after he realized how it was affecting him, it was beginning to vex him enormously.

"Okay, but what about Jack? I need to find him first," Alice reminded him.

Hatter groaned. The way he saw it, they had lost their only conceivable chance of infiltrating the casino and rescuing her boyfriend. Hatter had formed a new plan regarding Alice. Wonderland was far too perilous of a place at the moment for an oyster outside the control of the Suits. Now that he knew she carried the Stone of Wonderland on her finger, he figured they should make an attempt to get to the Looking Glass. At the very least, he could return her to the safety of her own world. As much as he enjoyed the sensations from her emotions, the girl was stimulating some disturbing new feelings within _him_. Her presence made him say, think, and do crazy things. If Hatter ever wanted things to return to a semblance of normalcy, she would have to leave this world.

_You lie to everyone including yourself_, a small voice within him taunted. _You don't want her to leave and you know it. You like..._

_Shut it!_ Hatter commanded silently.

"There's no way we're going to get into the casino now. It's too dangerous," Hatter said, halting and turning to face her.

Alice sighed regretfully. "Look, I don't know how he got mixed up in all this. But I know he's not a thief. He honestly did not seem to know it was enchanted when he gave it to me." Her gaze trailed downward to the ring in question, sparkling on her finger.

Hatter frowned. "How did you know it was enchanted, anyway?" He had never thought of the Stone of Wonderland as having enchanted properties. But he supposed it would have to be imbued with some kind of magical powers to fuel the Looking Glass.

Alice pursed her lips. "I could sense it," she said softly.

"You could sense it?" Hatter returned skeptically. Clearly, there was a lot about this girl he had yet to learn.

Alice rolled her eyes. "As I said before, I'll explain later. Besides, that's not important." She sighed. "Jack was trying to surprise me or sweep me off my feet or something. Somehow he got a hold of this ring, and then it came into my possession, and now he's in a whole heap of trouble. I have to get him out of it."

She glanced away from Hatter, but since her gaze fell on the drop-off which so terrified her, she looked back at him.

"It's because of me that he's here. If I hadn't freaked out over the ring and kicked him out of my house, he would be home safe," she admitted remorsefully. The girl swallowed, her eyes glistening with guilt.

Hatter was shamelessly interested to know the story behind that admittance, but he figured it was not all that relevant to the matter at hand. What was important to know was how her boyfriend, an _oyster_, had managed to come into possession of the fabled Stone of Wonderland. The Resistance had been attempting to wrest it from the queen's grasp for an exceedingly long time. It was simply impossible to think Alice's oyster boyfriend had stolen the ring. Oysters were ignorant of the ring's existence. There was something missing here, some vital detail which was hidden amidst this tangled web of events.

"How did Jack get a hold of it anyway?" he inquired. He knew Dodo had posed the same question to her. She had answered that she did not know. Perhaps she would provide a different answer to Hatter.

The girl's lips tightened and she glanced away from Hatter as she mumbled hesitantly, "I don't know."

The telltale signs of a lie or an evasion. Hatter was intimately familiar with those. He would have pressed the matter had she not loped around him and started walking ahead of him quickly. He could do nothing but follow.

"The point is, I'm the only one who can get him out of this mess," Alice said curtly.

Hatter huffed. "And how did you figure that one?" he asked sardonically.

"Well, I have the ring," she replied matter-of-factly. "I can use it to negotiate his release."

Hatter's eyes widened. He sincerely hoped the girl was not serious on that account. To even attempt such a thing was nothing short of madness.

_Suicidal._

"No, no, no!" he protested, quickening his pace to catch up to Alice.

The girl had stopped at his protests and whirled around to face him, a quizzical expression on her face. Hatter grabbed her arm, desperation and fear fueling his words. "You can't negotiate with the queen! She's crazy. She'll...you just need to cut your losses and get out of here while you still can." He fervently hoped the girl would see reason. He would gladly throw her through the Looking Glass himself, never to see her again, if she would abandon such a hopeless mission. The thought of her going before the queen with all her loyal, gun-toting Suits in attendance made that cold, icy feeling return to his veins.

"I can't just abandon him," Alice said, her eyes wide. "Don't you get it? He's in this mess because of me! I would never be able to live with myself if I just left him here." She then added, almost as an afterthought, "Besides, I like him."

Hatter rolled his eyes at the last statement, though it hurt him more than he would ever allow her to see. "Oh, you like him?" he repeated cynically.

"Yes, I do. A lot." She tipped her chin up, as if daring him to defy her.

Hatter walked away from her, trying his best to ignore the familiar tight sensation in his chest. He thought he was beginning to understand what that feeling was even though it was not something he had ever really felt before. He had never cared enough about another person for such a feeling to exist.

_Uh oh._

"Look," he stated, turning back to face her. "I know a thing or two about liking people. And, in time, after much chocolate and crème cake,_ like_ turns into '_what was his name again?'."_ He was not speaking strictly from personal experience, but he had seen it enough among his own circle of friends and acquaintances. Whatever romantic liaisons Hatter had indulged himself with in the past had not progressed past the point of the casual need to satiate the carnal desires of men and women. He had never really cared too deeply for the women he had been involved with. Working with the Resistance while fooling the violent monarchy into believing he was their loyal tool left little room for true romance. Hatter was just desperately grasping at straws in this matter. If he could perhaps make her doubt her own feelings for this man, she might be persuaded to give up her ill-fated mission of rescuing him.

Alice raised an eyebrow at him, apparently unmoved by his words. "Not in my world. Well, I suppose after a lot of booze, but, anyway, I have kind of bad luck with men."

"There's a shock," Hatter muttered dryly, rolling his eyes.

If she heard the comment, she had brushed it off and continued speaking without missing a beat. "And this is one of the first ones who has actually ever meant anything to me. So, whether you like it or not, and whether I have your help or not, I'm not going to give up on him." She crossed her arms over her chest, her chin jutting out defiantly and her eyes sparkling with determination. "And, I feel I should remind you, I'm not a normal girl."

As if Hatter needed reminding of that fact. But he could not suppress his fear of the casino and the queen's absolute power over her subjects within. Alice was only one girl. She may be a very strong, formidable girl, but she was only one girl just the same. Even immense strength could be brought down by sheer numbers.

Hatter sighed in resignation, deciding to give up the argument for now. He turned back to continue walking towards his shop, but stopped when he heard screams and the sounds of glass smashing. He held a hand up in front of Alice. "Stay close," he said.

The two of them crept up to the red telephone booth which stood before the grassy bridge leading up to the front porch of the Tea House. He heard Alice suppress a gasp of horror when they saw a contingent of Suits standing on the porch and just in front of the steps. There was one figure in particular, however, which caused Hatter a great deal of dread. This Suit stood out from the rest, not only because he currently had one of the Tea House patrons in his grasp and was proceeding to interrogate him violently, but because he did not have the head of a man.

Sitting atop this Suit's neck was a glossy, white, ceramic rabbit-shaped head.

"What the hell is that thing?" he heard Alice ask in a whisper.

"I don't know," Hatter said, shaking his head in mesmerized revulsion. "I think it was a person at one point." There was something niggling in his mind, though. Something was extremely familiar about the rabbit-head Suit.

"Wait, it can't be..." he murmured, more to himself than to Alice. _Is that Mad March? He's supposed to be dead._

Meanwhile, those men were completely destroying Hatter's shop. He did not even need to be inside to know they were probably tearing linens to pieces, overturning his furniture, smashing all his possessions. He felt the sharp prick of anger flare up, causing him to grip the sides of the red telephone booth so tight his knuckles turned white. He stayed where he was though. There was simply no point in trying to fight all those men. There were over half a dozen standing outside, and he knew there were likely to be even more inside. It was a lost cause. It would be far better for him and Alice to remain out of sight.

_How did they know she came here?_ Hatter wondered to himself. He surveyed the distressing scene and frowned when he saw that dratted rat-catcher conversing with a man with a sharp, triangular beard dressed in a black suit with a high collared cloak flowing down past his torso and a black bowler hat sitting atop his head. There was no mistaking the large silver medallion hanging from the man's neck. It was shaped in the form of the club emblem, marking the man as none other than the Minister of Clubs, one of the queen's most powerful and trusted lackeys.

He was justifiably disgusted with Ratty for betraying him, but he was not totally surprised. "You work with rats long enough, you finally become one," he mumbled darkly.

"Tell me where the oyster girl is!" the tinny, mechanical voice of the rabbit-head Suit demanded of the poor, senseless Tea House patron. The voice, though distorted by whatever machinery was inside that ceramic head, was unmistakable. It was the infamous Mad March, one of the queen's favored assassins; until he had lost his head, that was.

_Oh shit. If that's him, then we're in real trouble._

The poor man being questioned was shaking his head. The answer did not appear to please Mad March, who abruptly responded by tossing the man over the walkway. The poor fellow's screams echoed all the way down. They did not even hear when he hit the bottom, so high up they were. Hatter heard Alice gasp, and he looked to her, seeing that she had cupped her hand over her mouth. Guilt and horror shone ominously in her blue eyes.

"They're looking for me," she whispered with dread. "Oh god...all those people...your shop."

She swallowed and told Hatter in a quiet, flat voice, "Stay here."

"Alice, no!" he protested, pulling on her hand when the girl started to move forward. "There's nothing to be done."

She looked at him, eyes blazing. "I can fight them. I can stop them."

Hatter grasped her shoulders, his voice becoming desperate. "Listen, I know you've got some kind of super powers, but does one of them include being bullet-proof?"

Alice looked down, her breath coming in heavy gasps. She shook her head wordlessly.

"I didn't think so. Well, there are probably about two-dozen Suits or more altogether. They're all armed and well-trained. Maybe you could clear the bridge, but don't you think it's possible that just one of them might get in a lucky shot once you reached the house? And what if you should lose your balance in the fight. You could fall," he said heatedly. "Trust me. This is one of those times when we need to cut our losses and get the hell out of here."

The girl clenched her fists and glanced across the bridge with an agonized glower. He could sense the frustration, anger, and guilt roiling within her. He briefly wondered what he would do if she did decide to try to take on the entire posse of Suits which was destroying his home. While he had not yet seen her skills in battle (he decided he could not count tossing Dodo around like a ragdoll even if it was a truly amusing and incredible feat), he figured they were probably more advanced than his own. Nevertheless, he was not eager to see such skills demonstrated when the enemy had far greater numbers and superior weapons. He knew he would not be able to physically prevent her from bolting across the walkway. His only card to play was to appeal to whatever senses she might still have. Besides, if she ran, he knew he would run after her. His actions in the Great Library testified to his willingness to protect her even at the cost of his own life. It mattered little that Hatter was not able to ascertain the origins of such strong and dangerous inclinations; he simply knew they existed and that he was incapable of denying them.

Relief saturated him when he heard the sigh of resignation.

"I'm sorry," she murmured in sorrow. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. "This is all my fault."

Hatter felt the inexplicable urge to hug her just then. While it was undeniable the Suits were ransacking his shop in the search for her (as he highly doubted there were two escaped female oysters running around), the urge to blame or resent her had never once crossed his mind. She had not asked for any of this. If anyone was at fault, it was the queen and her detestable Suits, for it was their actions which had caused Alice's unintentional trip to Wonderland in the first place.

"No, it's not," he assured her, briefly caressing her cheek with his hand and then snatching it back awkwardly. He coughed and looked away from her, suddenly unable to bear gazing into her blue eyes.

"We have to go," he said softly. Hatter took her hand and they started running back in the direction they had come.

Unfortunately, they must have been spotted because once they reached the first building past the red telephone booth they heard a multitude of excited shouts. "There she is! Follow them!"

"Run!" Hatter yelled. He did not even have to turn his head to know that Mad March would be at the head of the pursuit.

Surprisingly, no gunshots rang out. These people must have wanted Alice alive, which meant they probably knew she carried the Stone of Wonderland or knew of its location. To Hatter, that was even more reason to evade capture. He would very likely be killed on the spot or executed later at the queen's convenience as it was. The only problem was, he could not think of where to seek asylum now that he had antagonized a major branch of the Resistance. Where could he take her so she would be safe (or, at least, safer)? With a sinking realization, Hatter thought of the one place where neither the Resistance nor the queen had a foothold. It was the forest known as the Tulgey Wood, which was located directly across the lake from the city.

The problem with using that place for sanctuary was that, even excluding the queen and the Resistance, the forest offered its own particular perils. There were bound to be things in that ancient woodland which were far more dangerous than the Suits or even Mad March. The only difference was that none of the inhabitants of the Tulgey Wood would be looking for them. The gigantic trees and thick shrubbery would provide ideal shelter from their pursuers. Their chances of evading capture, and surviving, would be higher in those woods than here in the city. Hatter only hoped he could remember enough from his boyhood lessons about the Tulgey Wood to traverse it as unobtrusively as possible, especially with an oyster in tow.

_Hmmm...so option one is stay here and almost definitely get captured and killed. Option two is go into those barmy woods and possibly get eaten by something._

Neither of those two options was particularly alluring. One just happened to afford them a slightly better chance of survival than the other. With the decision made, Hatter changed his course toward a small pier where he knew a smuggling boat was usually tied up. He only hoped it would actually be there. It would be just their luck they would choose the one day when someone was actually using the little boat or left it tied up elsewhere. He did not fancy swimming the entire way across the lake. However, if it came to that, at least he would have a chance to see Alice in a drenched blue dress again.

_Always have to look on the bright side, _he thought to himself dryly.

Alice did not inquire as to their intended destination, which Hatter was exceedingly grateful for. He was not certain how she would react to the news that he was planning on taking her to a place where dangers told and untold roamed unchecked. Even more importantly, as far as he was concerned, was that her lack of queries meant something to him. It meant she trusted him, or, at least, trusted him a great deal more than she had earlier. The feeling it engendered within him nearly made him forget they were currently running for their lives.

If there had been any breath to spare, he would have breathed a huge sigh of relief to see that rickety, old motor boat drifting up against the little wooden dock. It was the brightest thing in this gray world, in Hatter's eyes.

"Get in! Get in!" he ordered Alice, snatching up the rope which secured it to the dock and unwinding it.

He hopped into the boat with a resounding thud followed by an alarming lurch which had Hatter worried the boat would capsize. The little boat righted itself quickly, however, and he wasted no time pulling the cord to activate the motor. The motor groaned and wheezed as if it were being rudely awaken from a midday nap, but it did not start. He cursed and, implementing more force, yanked on the cord again. The second attempt yielded no success either.

"Shit, we're going to have to swim, aren't we?" he heard Alice remark dolefully behind him.

Hatter gritted his teeth, seeking some way to reassure her. "Hold on. There's a knack to this." He was bluffing. He had only operated the boat on his own once before, which had been over five years ago. He remembered one of the chaps he knew who frequently used the boat telling him something about a trick in getting it to run. He jiggled the cord around before pulling it, dreadfully aware they were burning up precious seconds. Alas, the motor refused to do more than gurgle horribly and die.

"Apparently I don't remember the knack," he mumbled hopelessly.

"Here," Alice interjected, pushing Hatter aside and grabbing the cord. She twisted the cord around her wrist and heaved it back. Hatter almost feared that, with such strength as he knew her now to possess, she would yank the motor completely off the boat. Not only did the motor stay affixed to the bow, the motor came to life with an almost victorious roar.

"How did you do that?" he asked in awe.

She shook her head and shrugged. "No idea. I don't fiddle with boats much," she admitted.

Before Hatter could respond, both of them were alerted to the presence of their pursuers. The ceramic white ears of Mad March appeared over the grassy crest of the hill overlooking the little pier. A split second later, the dark-clad Suits spilled over the hill in the assassin's wake.

"Time to go!" Hatter exclaimed.

* * *

Sorry for the no sledgehammer bit, but I figured Dodo would probably want to keep his distance from Alice. I promise you, the sledgehammer will have its moment! I know some of you may be wondering why Alice ran when she could have probably taken on the group coming after them. Remember that she is trying to keep her focus on rescuing Jack and she's starting to trust Hatter more than she realizes. She's a lot more brain than she is brawn; perhaps a little too much brain haha. That said, this was somewhat of a difficult scene to write and it could have gone several ways, but, ultimately I decided that it was best to stay with the outline. I hope you enjoyed it!

Reviews make my day!


	8. Close Encounters of a Jabberwock

Thanks to my readers and reviewers!

* * *

**Chapter VII: **Close Encounters of a Jabberwock

Alice knew she should have been feeling weak-kneed with relief that the little boat was speeding away from the people who were after her. She should have been sending up silent prayers of gratitude to whatever higher power may have been keeping an eye out for her. But whatever relief or gratitude she could have been experiencing was being drowned out by a growing torrent of anger, guilt, and horror. She could not feel relief that she was alive, unharmed, and free of imprisonment, not while the scene replaying in her head kept showing her that innocent old man being viciously tossed over the ledge to plummet to his demise. The man was dead because of her. She may not have been the one to throw him, but, in her mind, it made no difference. Those Suits had been searching for her. They had ransacked Hatter's tea shop in pursuit of her. They had been terrorizing and hurting people because of her. And she had done nothing save turn around and run the other way.

She was mortified and sickened by her own act of cowardice. As a Vampire Slayer, Alice was blessed with at least five times the strength of an average human, unparalleled speed, agility, and endurance. She was a trained and tried warrior who had never once, back in her own world, run from a battle. Her flight or fight response had, heretofore, almost always ignored the flight part. It was not as if she never leapt into battle without a drop of fear in her. Nothing could be further from the truth. Alice always feared some epic battle (or maybe even just a minor skirmish) would be the end of her. But, she had long since learned to tether her fear and cloak it underneath her courage, knowledge, and training. Normally, she was quite adept at controlling her fear rather than letting it control her. Well, that was, except when it came to heights. It was despicable that such a thing as being more than six feet off the ground rendered her a weak, pathetic coward. She could not even recall why heights instigated such liquefying fear within her. Her mind must have repressed whatever incident had created such an irrational, deep-seated fear. Would that she could remember, and then maybe she could resolve it and be free of its chains.

Had it truly been the thought of falling which had prevented her legs from moving where they wanted to take her? Certainly it could not have been the superior numbers of the enemy. Even with the much larger population of Slayers worldwide, they were still vastly outnumbered by their enemies. Alice had been in countless battles where the odds had been wholly against her and her compatriots. They had always prevailed, nevertheless. No, the greater number of the Suits had not intimidated her in the least. And, as she did not believe their guns could have been the reason, the only other option left was the unexplainable fear which had dogged her steps since before she could remember.

"Alice?" Hatter's voice broke into her melancholy, self-recriminating thoughts. "Are you all right?"

Alice glanced up, feeling her throat grow entangled with emotion as she saw the concern in his dark brown eyes. She looked away, not being able to bear sympathy she did not deserve.

While Alice knew Hatter had assured her that he believed none of this to be her fault, she could not help but feel as if he if should just abandon her on some lifeless rock. That he was not only still with her, but trying his best to keep her away from the Suits, filled her with a strange, wondrous feeling of gratitude. In her company, Hatter had received nothing but trouble. He had been shot in her place down in the bowels of the Great Library. He had been transformed from a valuable operative to a hunted enemy in the eyes of the Resistance simply because he had protected her. Then, his shop, his very livelihood, had been destroyed by the queen's servants because they knew she had been there.

For a brief second, Hatter let his hand rest on her hand. Alice felt a curious, fluttery sensation in her stomach. When he took his hand away, she dismissed the sensation as mere hunger pains paired up with guilt and horror.

"Alice, I know you feel guilty over what happened back there, but there was nothing we could have done. We only would have gotten ourselves killed," he insisted softly.

What would she have done if he really had been killed down in the Great Library? Her blood ran icy cold through her veins at the mere thought. That was a road she did not even want to think about having to travel.

Alice knew better than to dwell on things which were over and done with, and not to be changed. She willed herself to leave the terrible scene at Hatter's shop behind and focus on the entire reason she had sought his help in the first place. Now, more than ever, she felt the need to rescue Jack and deliver him safely home. In a way, it seemed as if it would redeem her pitiful behavior from earlier.

"Where is the casino?" she inquired calmly.

She saw the expression on Hatter's face darken from sympathetic concern to alarm and disbelief. Her eyes traveled downward to his hands, which were gripping the steering wheel so tight she could see his knuckles turn white. "You still don't plan on trying to negotiate with the queen, do you? I've told you before, it's pointless. The woman would never listen to you. She'd be more likely to have you beheaded for even daring." He gazed at her, his dark eyes desperately entreating her to heed his reason.

"There might be another way," he mused, his eyes turning from pleading to thoughtful. "The White Rabbit is a whole other kettle of onions. There may be some way we can cut a deal with them. It's a long shot, but the way I see it, it's the only chance we've got."

Alice cocked an eyebrow when she heard Hatter's intentional use of the collective pronoun. "We?" she repeated, fixing her questioning gaze on him.

The man shifted awkwardly. He was silent for a long moment before he finally spoke, endeavoring to keep his gaze straight ahead. "Um, well, I don't know if you noticed back there, but my shop was completely ransacked and, quite possibly, will be destroyed. I'm homeless." Alice bit on her lip as guilt assailed her. Though he did not lay any blame at her feet, it was there just the same. She had completely turned his life upside down.

"I'm a target now," Hatter continued levelly, but there was an undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice. "Not just for the Resistance, but for the Suits as well. And, well, there are only so many places in Wonderland I can hide. The only option I see for myself is to go back with you...to your world." He glanced at her, possibly to observe her reaction. There was hope, dread, and a few emotions Alice could not decipher sifting about on his features.

The girl was too stunned to speak for a moment. "You...you want to go back with me?" After all that had happened to him just by being around her, she figured he would be itching to get her to the Looking Glass. She could be out of his life for good and he might then be able to restore some measure of normalcy to his life. She had not expected him to want to join her on her return journey. Even more, she had not expected feeling happy, almost elated, at the prospect.

"Well, if that's all right," he mumbled awkwardly.

_Well, shit, if he thinks it's bad here, I don't know how he'd handle a hellmouth. But, he doesn't have to live in Cleveland, of course. I've got a ton of connections. I could make sure he got a nice, relatively demon-free place to live. _

"Hatter," Alice said warmly, grasping his shoulder. "You've done so much for me in the short time I've known you and all you've gotten in return for it is a huge pile of grief and pain. If you want to come back with me, then, by all means, you are more than welcome." She smiled, feeling as if it were the first time a genuine smile broke out on her face in years.

She felt her heart speed up when she noticed Hatter was staring at her, a peculiar expression upon his face which she fancied she almost recognized. Before she had time to ponder over it, a distant rumbling sound caught their attention. Two heads whipped around to peer anxiously behind the traveling smuggling boat. Alice groaned when she saw what Hatter had called a Scarab in the air, hurtling towards them. Her sharp eyes carved its ominous shape, feeling a shudder as she recalled being trapped in a box hanging from one of those contraptions.

"Wow, that was quick," Alice muttered.

"Yep, before we do anything we have to shake that royal flush," Hatter remarked, sounding surprisingly calm in spite of the situation.

As Hatter pushed the throttle forward to gain more speed, the little boat emitted a high-pitched keen which made Alice grimace. She had a vision of the boat's engine overheating and blowing a gasket. Almost as if in response, the airborne Scarab started to grow larger as the distance between them grew smaller. It, too, was moving faster. She eyed the woody shore which she presumed was to be their destination. Where they were headed appeared to be a huge, thick forest which extended all the way to the shore. There was no leveling off into a treeless beach she could see. She had not asked where they were going, not so much because she trusted Hatter, but more because it would probably have made little difference for her anyway. It was he who had been born and raised in this world, not she.

She could barely contain her relief when they reached the shawl of trees hugging the shoreline. Hatter angled the boat up against the shore. With a quick glance to check the status of the Scarab, he stood up and directed his attention to Alice. "We have to work quickly to try and hide the boat," he said. He scrambled out of the rocking boat onto the solid ground.

Alice, without needing to be told, threw Hatter the rope. He proceeded to tie it around the trunk of a tree as she hopped to the shore. They then quickly set to work tearing off large branches from the surrounding trees with giant, broad green leaves. They laid those over the boat, effectively concealing it from the view of anything up above. Luckily, it seemed the Suits had not sent a waterborne pursuit because part of the boat's white siding peaked out from in between the leaves.

"Come on," Hatter urged Alice, beckoning her to follow him up the slope into the woods.

As they walked further into the dense woodland, Hatter continued speaking. "That weirdo leading the posse has one hell of a nose for blood." He paused ominously. "And this is the place to find it."

Alice had almost forgotten about the rabbit-headed Suit who had outright murdered that poor man back at Hatter's tea shop. One did not really forget the sight of a man with a ceramic rabbit for a head. She would never go so far as to say she had seen everything, for she knew, philosophically, that such a thing was impossible. She did consider it fair to say she probably could write a lengthy tome on the sheer amount of weirdness she had experienced in her life with the last six years comprising the greatest weight. In her tenure as Vampire Slayer, she had seen things which eclipsed the wildest of imaginations and the darkest of horrors. But, she could honestly say, she would never have dreamt up something as bizarre as a walking, talking male body with a white, ceramic rabbit-shaped head.

Had not a guttural roar emanating from deep inside the woods intruded upon Alice and her companion, she might have launched into a bevy of questions about that strange Suit. As it was, she decided to give her attention over to this immediate development. She mentally opened up all her preternatural senses, feeling the forest subtly shift as if the lenses of a pair of glasses had just been cleaned.

"What was that?" she asked while probing with her senses. Whatever it was, it was big, and it was not very far away from them. The sound of its roar and the vibe she received from it told her that much. It was nothing she had ever felt before, however. There was no innate sense of benevolence or malevolence, however, which gave the young Slayer some cause for relief. It was probably no more than some kind of an animal. That made it no less dangerous, however, for animals liked to eat. She suppressed the images from the movie _Jurassic Park_, figuring it would be simply absurd to ask Hatter if dinosaurs roamed these woods.

Hatter's answer was cryptic. "There are things in these woods that defy the imagination." His face was pale and pinched with dread, but his eyes roved over the woody area thoughtfully.

_Yeah, it takes a lot to defy my imagination nowadays, _Alice dryly intoned to herself.

"Come on," Hatter announced, walking forward at a hurried pace. "We don't have much time."

Alice had not heard him, nor had she consciously noticed him moving ahead of her. She was far too busy scrutinizing her surroundings as strategies took shape in her mind. Sunlight dappled the leaf-strewn ground through pockets in the thick canopy layer above. The trees varied in size and thickness from whip thin saplings barely past her hips to massive giants which dwarfed the California Redwoods by at least a few yards in height. These woods were incredibly old, she could feel that. There was infinite age and power sewn deep into the soil and the vegetation. She half expected some of the trees to open up bark-lidded eyes and demand why they were trespassing upon their territory.

_I watch too many movies,_ she silently decided.

"Alice, we have to keep moving," Hatter said anxiously. "We can't shake the posse or fight them. There's only one thing left to try."

Alice's brow furrowed and she stared at the young man in confusion. "And what is that?"

"We're gonna lead 'em into a trap," he explained.

Alice blinked, confounded by her friend's statement. She glanced around the forest again, wondering just what he had in mind to use for a trap. They did not have the time to dig a hole and cover it with leaf litter and dirt. They did not have time to build any other kind of booby trap she could imagine. So, unless Hatter had some fancy tricks up his sleeve (which was possible, she conceded), the young Slayer was completely clueless as to how they would fashion a trap to lead their pursuers into.

Hatter resumed walking deeper into the woods. Alice's eyes widened in alarm when she realized he was walking directly towards the pathway of the beast. Its foghorn roar blasted through the air again at a much greater volume than before. That could only mean one thing: the creature was getting closer to them.

"Hatter!" Alice screeched, running after him. "What are you doing? You're walking towards that thing! Shouldn't we be walking away?"

Alice had fought her fair share of battles against some larger than life foes. However, she had always had a full complement of Slayers accompanying her during those incidents. She would fight this thing if it came down to it, but she would have preferred simply to avoid it, especially if it was just an animal looking for a meal. Hatter, apparently, had other ideas in mind which made the girl worry for the man's sanity. She supposed now was the appropriate time to use that superlative _mad_.

"Hush!" Hatter cautioned her. "Keep your breathing shallow."

Alice grabbed his right arm and clamped down on it like an iron vice. "What are you doing? What is that thing anyway?" she demanded, though she lowered her voice to a stage whisper.

Hatter swallowed nervously. "It's a jabberwock."

Though the name sparked some recognition, it was not enough to give Alice any helpful information on how to evade, fight, or kill the thing. She struggled to remember the story of _Alice in Wonderland_, but only the vaguest of images were summoned. She sorely wished she had thought to read that book more often in her adolescence.

"Remember that trap I was talking about?" Hatter said in a quavering voice. "Well, this is it. And I'm the bait."

"What?" Alice hissed in confounded incredulity. _Jesus Christ, he's lost his mind._

"I'm going to lead it to the posse," he informed her. She could tell he was fighting to steady his nerves. The man was not certain this plan was going to work at all. Uncertainty led to mistakes, and mistakes could be deadly.

Hatter looked down at the arm which Alice gripped so tightly. He laid his hand over her hand and gazed imploringly at her. "Alice, let me go. You need to get out of here. Find a tree to climb."

"Are you crazy? You can't make yourself bait for a monster," she protested vehemently. "Even if I thought this plan would work, which I don't, it should be me being the bait. I'm fairly certain I can run faster than you." _Not to mention I'd rather face this beast than climb a fucking tree._

The tones of the monster's roar reverberated through the air again, causing both Alice and Hatter to flinch. He looked down at her, panic in his dark chocolate gaze. It took her a few seconds to figure out the panic was more on her behalf than for himself. She would not be defied in this matter, though. She could not abide him putting himself in any more mortal danger for her sake.

Tremors overtook the ground, vibrating up through Alice's legs. The trees shook, their leaves producing ominous whispering sounds of doom. Hatter grasped Alice's shoulder with his left arm, as she would not let go of his other arm. "Alice, please, get..."

His plea was abruptly interrupted by the crashing appearance of the jabberwock. It was a truly monstrous creature. Its greenish gray, reptilian scales stretched over a body that was easily larger than any elephant from her world. The closest comparison she could come to (and this would be much later) would have been some kind of dragon-like creature. It had long, lethally sharp claws and a powerful, long neck. A pair of ragged, thin wings sprouted from its hunched back, neither of which looked capable of carrying a creature of such size into the air. Perched atop its proportionally tiny head were two bulbous protuberances which served as the beast's eyes. There were also two humongous buck teeth protruding from its mouth.

The lumbering beast stopped in its tracks when the two humans came into view. Its eyes swiveled around to focus on Alice while making a decidedly hungry growl. The shock of it made the girl's hand go limp. She unintentionally let go of Hatter's arm.

Hatter screamed, "Run!" while bolting off the pathway, no doubt believing Alice would follow him. Unfortunately, it had decided she looked like a more delectable morsel. The girl knew she would appear to be the easier target, and once the creature had appeared and seen them, she had known instinctively that it would go after her. With no particular direction in mind other than that it was opposite to Hatter's direction, Alice ran.

Releasing a great howl, the jabberwock followed. It tore through the woods in its clumsy pursuit, stumbling over logs, boles, underbrush, and rocks which Alice was able to deftly maneuver around or over. She kept her speed at a normal level, however, knowing if she pushed herself to run at Slayer speed, it may lose sight of her and then turn on Hatter.

As she fled the snapping jaws of the beast, her sharp ears picked up the sounds of Hatter's voice, crying out her name. As far away as he was, she could still hear the panic and terror in his voice, all of it bent towards her. She did not turn around or try to shout out a reassurance, as she wanted him to be as far away as possible from this monster and she definitely did not want to lead it back to him.

_Be bait for a monster...the moron,_ she thought to herself even as she leapt over a huge tree root.

She picked up her pace and started to zigzag her movements, loping around trees and under low branches. Her intent was to slow the creature down and possibly get it tangled up in the décor of its own home. It had become almost immediately apparent that the jabberwock, while huge and fearsome, was also rather unintelligent and ungainly. Its cumbersome bulk was no match for the closely packed forest, which made Alice wonder how the thing had survived. Certainly natural selection would have prevailed upon the species to evolve smaller, more agile forms. Once she considered that, she snorted in dry humor and dismissed it. The natural laws of biology and physics probably did not apply in this world as it did in her world.

Skirting through a pair of trees which allowed plenty of space for a small young woman to slide through, but not nearly enough for an enormous carnivore, Alice experienced a decided loss in agility: she tripped and fell. The toes of her boot snagged on a branch or exposed root concealed by the dead leaf litter, keeping her lower body from moving forward. Her upper body, however, was still in forward motion. The imbalance was immediately redressed once she went sprawling, face first, onto the ground.

"Shit!" she cursed. She scrambled forward on her hands and knees a few paces before springing back to her feet.

Her decision to run through those two trees proved to be very auspicious, however. The jabberwock's lack of wits and its lumbering size had combined to trap the monster between the trees. Enraged that its prey was so close and, yet, still out of reach, it stretched out its long neck and blared its foghorn roar of anger and hunger at Alice. It dug its large claws into the ground, tearing up clods of dirt and roots as it strained to break free of its temporary wooden chains. The trees bent forward, emitting small cracking sounds.

Knowing those trees probably would not hold the thing forever, the girl knew she had little time to act. She would have to disable the creature somehow to keep it from re-commencing its pursuit of an Alice-shaped meal. The last resort would be to outright kill it, but that was much easier said than done with the jabberwock's impressive size and her having no weapon on her person.

_Snap off a tree branch. Jesus, that's the first thing you learn in Slayer 101. Weapons are everywhere if you know to look._

Alice looked above her and spotted a thick long branch hanging low to the ground. She stretched up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around the branch, and tore it off at the base. The wood splintered unevenly and left sharp, jagged edges. She flipped it around so the sharper edge faced the struggling jabberwock. While not as sharp as she would have liked, the branch would have to serve; she would just have to put extra force behind it to compensate.

"Alice!"

Hatter came running into view through the thick foliage. The timing of his appearance coincided with the sharp cracking sounds which meant the two trees keeping the jabberwock at bay had finally snapped under the stress, literally speaking. Alice barely noticed her friend's appearance while she lifted her make-shift weapon as the beast's jaw came straight at her. Instead of getting a mouth full of flesh and bone, the creature ended up engulfing the branch almost entirely. Its momentum almost made her fall again, but she had splayed her legs to stabilize herself and disperse her center of gravity. Her boots dug into the soil as the creature heaved against her and the branch, but she stayed upon her feet. Once the branch lodged in the beast's mouth, she marshaled her strength and shoved the branch in deeper, feeling resistance give way as she pierced the flesh at the back of its throat.

A gurgling, pitiful howl emerged from the creature's throat. It reared back, shaking its bulbous head and clawing at the branch lodged in its mouth. Alice had shoved the thing in deep, and the jabberwock's unwieldy digits could not wrap around the branch. All it could do was howl and tear at it uselessly while its swiveling eyes rolled in their protuberant sockets, eventually coming to rest on Alice, who stood before it watching with fascinated horror.

_Well, great. I think all I managed was to piss it off even more. Fail. _

"Alice," Hatter uttered in warning, his voice breathless.

With her peripheral vision, she saw him edging closer to her while keeping his gaze trained on the beast. Very carefully, Alice waggled her finger to gesture for Hatter to stay back. She knew the beast was studying her, preparing itself to strike out at her in all its fury, pain, and hunger. She held its yellow gaze, balling her fists. It was completely different from staring down a demonic creature or a vampire. Those creatures were brimming with malicious hunger; they reeked of unnatural death and evil. The jabberwock was neither malicious nor evil, nor did it smell of the loamy decaying scent all newborn vampires exuded. It was merely an animal driven by instinct to eat, and it had suffered a great amount of frustration and agony all for the pursuit of a meal.

With a garbled snarl, the creature lunged toward her with surprising speed. Hatter screamed her name, but his fears were laid to rest when it became obvious she was far quicker than the wounded creature. She dodged the attack, nimbly bounding to the side where he stood with his arm outstretched. He latched onto her hand and then they were pounding the ground, trying to put as much distance between them and the wounded, but still hungry, jabberwock.

They ran without any regard for direction, the leaf litter and exposed roots often providing tricky little detriments to their balance. The thumping footsteps of the beast behind them urged the two on quicker, though Alice was hoping the branch skewering its throat would have distracted and slowed it down just a little. She was about to begin kicking the gears up to preternatural Slayer speed (although that would probably have entailed dragging Hatter behind her like a kite, something she gathered he would not appreciate later) when the ground literally disappeared out from beneath them.

The descent to the cold, dirt surface lasted barely a second, but Alice still tried vainly to lash out for a holding to stop the fall. A sharp, slicing pain tore into her left side and she let out a gasp. She barely gave that a whit of a thought, though, when she heard Hatter unleash an angry grunt of his own. She frantically glanced over at her companion. He was lying spread-eagled on the ground, his hat having been whisked off his head during the fall, leaving an unruly shock of chestnut hair to spring free. Surrounding his body, but miraculously leaving him untouched, were several long sticks. Tilting her gaze upward, she saw that those sticks resembled elongated stakes, more like battle pikes or spears. They were securely dug into the ground and their tips looked exquisitely sharp.

_Damn it, why couldn't I have found these about five minutes ago?_

"Are you okay?" she heard Hatter ask between his gasps for breath.

Alice's answer was interrupted by the bulbous head and long, scaly neck of the jabberwock, branch still stuck in its mouth. It snorted and unleashed its broken howl. Alice and Hatter lay very still as the creature edged its face closer, skimming some of its bottom jaw on one of the sharp sticks. It did not appear to like that at all. Apparently, the branch piercing the back of its throat had made it wary of sharp, pointy objects, even if there was a potential meal involved. With a snarl that somehow sounded like a concession of defeat, it withdrew from the hole. They listened to it stomp away before breathing freely.

She heard Hatter rustle around, no doubt intent on putting his hat back in its proper place. Alice stayed where she was. The pain in her side reintroduced itself to her conscious attention and she winced.

"You okay?" Hatter repeated. She could not discern if he had noticed her injury or not.

"Um...yeah," she stammered weakly, although that was stretching the truth a bit. Alice had not been so lucky in her fall as Hatter, but, all things considered, it could have been worse. Unlike him, she had managed to hit one of the sharpened sticks. She tentatively reached out to her throbbing left side, feeling the rip in her dress and the warm, sticky feeling she was all too familiar with. She pulled her hand away, not surprised to find it stained red. Well, at least she had not been outright impaled. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. She was smaller than Hatter, and, yet, she had hit one of the lethally sharpened sticks while he had somehow missed them all.

"What the devil? You scheming curs! Vermin!" bellowed a voice from above the hole. Alice and Hatter exchanged bewildered expressions before looking up. A face appeared above the hole. It was the face of a man who was well into his golden years with a curly white mustache and another wisp of snowy white hair curling under his chin to form a comical little goatee. Of course, this being Wonderland, there simply could not be just a regular old man hurling archaic invectives at them above a hole which very sharp spears staked into the ground. This old man had to be decked out in a suit of tarnished armor with the remnants of a coat of white paint cracking and peeling off. A chainmail hood framed his narrow, angular face, which was almost red with indignation.

"Saboteurs! Anarchists!" the man shouted accusingly. "I was this close to catching him!" He then strung his hands apart for emphasis.

He looked down at his hands with a frown and then readjusted the distance. "_This_ close," he reiterated in an almost mournful tone.

The old man slapped his hands down, drew up his shoulders, and turned his nose up superciliously at the two who lay below. "Degenerate bagheads!" he spat.

Alice and Hatter could do nothing for the moment but stare in complete bafflement.


	9. The Lost Kingdom

I couldn't remember if Charlie's horse (not the one Alice and Hatter rode) was ever given a name and I had no interest in trying to find such an arbitrary detail. So I made up my own name.

* * *

**Chapter VIII: **The Lost Kingdom

"Um, Hatter," Alice whispered apprehensively. "Just checking, but are you seeing an old guy up there dressed in plate armor yelling at us?"

He did not know whether he was relieved to hear that question or not. "Yep." He sincerely hoped the girl was not merely sharing the same auditory and visual hallucination. If they expected to survive being hunted by both ends of the spectrum of Wonderland's power plays, it was helpful if at least one of them retained some sanity.

The Sir Lancelot impersonator continued his verbal assault. "You dastardly..." He fumbled for an appropriate insult, and when it appeared he could not find a satisfactory one, he stomped his foot in a comical display of geriatric petulance.

"Could you, like, shut up for a second?" Alice asked the elderly man dismissively. She was already on her feet, wending her way through the sticks towards where Hatter lay.

Alice appraised him with a mixture of concern and relief. "Are you sure you're okay?" she queried worriedly. He noted how her eyes assessed him head to toe; her practiced scrutiny checking for any sign of injury. Even though her inspection was wholly practical in nature, it made the blood quicken in his veins all the same. Hatter had never once blushed that he could remember. It was possible he may have blushed once or twice as a lad, he conceded. But now he could feel an uncharacteristic heat rise to his cheeks. In the dim light filtering into the hole, he hoped Alice would not see the sudden spread of redness upon his cheeks.

"Yeah," Hatter assured her. He accepted her outstretched hand nonetheless and she pulled him to his feet with a gentle, yet quick, motion. His vertebrae popped and creaked as he straightened. Other than feeling a little bruised and winded, he judged himself no worse for the wear. He knew he ought to count himself fortunate, for there were usually far worse consequences after crossing paths with a jabberwock. The pit which had ensnared them had definitely been designed with the proportions of such a creature in mind. Its depth was greater than his and Alice's heights combined. There were no vines or roots curling out of the sides for which to grab on. He laid his hand on the cool side, finding that the earth was compacted very tightly. It would be difficult to even carve out their own handholds.

"Maybe that coot has a rope we could borrow," Hatter commented.

The armored old man had disappeared from view, but he could still hear him fretting off somewhere in the distance. Hatter cupped his hand around his mouth and shouted, "Oi! Come back here!"

"We don't need a rope," Alice remarked thoughtfully. He looked at her and saw that she was staring at the top of the hole. She then turned to him and lowered herself down on one knee, threading her fingers together in front of her and holding her palms upward. "I can launch you up to the edge or even above it and then I'll just jump out after you." She outlaid the plan with an ironic flippancy that made Hatter want to laugh.

She inched her cupped hands forward, impatiently urging him to place his foot there. His first instinct was to ask the girl if she had gone mad. But he had seen her lift Dodo in the air and then slam him against a desk with such force it had almost broken. Hatter was not nearly as heavy as Dodo (which gave him a sneaking suspicion as to where most of the food rations he smuggled in to the Great Library ended up). Still, his tenuous grasp upon common sense forced him to stare skeptically at her hands and the height he would have to be thrown in order to reach the edge.

Alice noticed his reservations. "Trust me," she implored.

He sighed, resigned. After all, if he expected to have her trust, he would have to reciprocate it with trust of his own. He gripped both her shoulders and, with a mumbled apology, placed his dirty shoe in her palms. Even beneath the rough velvet of the jacket he had loaned her, he could feel the delicate outline of her petite shoulders. _She's so small and slender...where in the world does she hide the muscle mass for all that strength?_ He wondered.

"You ready?" she asked.

Hatter took a few deep breaths and then looked at Alice, nodding his head. "Here goes nothing," he quipped.

She rolled her eyes, but Hatter could see the faint attempts of her lips to curl up into a smile. The muscles in her shoulders tensed and without even so much as a countdown, her palms shot upwards, propelling him into the air. He barely had time to gasp in awe before he landed awkwardly upon his feet. Teetering alarmingly, he waved his arms to try to regain a sense of balance before he fell flat on his face. When he attained equilibrium, he glanced behind him back at the pit and noticed he had landed just a few feet from it.

He let out a laugh of incredulous relief and walked up to the edge of the pit. "It worked!" he shouted to Alice, who was standing at the bottom of the pit.

She smiled at his enthusiasm. "Told you," she replied smarmily.

"How on earth did you get out of there?" The old fellow had returned from wherever it was he had disappeared to. In his hands was a thickly coiled rope, which made Hatter snort with sardonic humor. Alice had been right. They really had not needed a rope.

The man did not appear to appreciate Hatter's mysterious amusement. His brow crinkled suspiciously and his light blue eyes surveyed the younger man with resentful contempt. "_And_ what, pray tell, is _so_ amusing?" The man's volume and eyebrows rose upon the words he decided to randomly emphasize.

"Uh...nothing," Hatter replied, eyeing the man's sheathed sword warily. _How long has this bloke been living in delusion in the bloody Tulgey Wood? How the hell has he survived for so long on his own? Maybe nothing wants a taste of crazy old man._

While Hatter was being distastefully stared down by the elderly man in battered plate armor, Alice emerged from the pit. Her small white hands appeared at the edge and, with an alarming groan which sounded suspiciously like it harbored pain, she hoisted herself out of the pit and onto the surface. She remained on her knees, one hand clasped to her left side, sucking in deep gulps of air.

Concerned, Hatter came over to kneel by her side, ignoring the old man's decision to resume his rampage of bewildering, nonsensical insults now that Alice had appeared. He thought she had seemed unharmed down in the pit, but now he was starting to see she may not have escaped the fall unscathed. "Alice, are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked, not completely able to quell the panic in his voice.

She drew in a lungful of air, smoothing the strained expression upon her face. "I...em...kind of hit one of the sticks on my way down." She paused for another breath and then said sheepishly, "Maybe we should have gone with the rope."

"What?" Hatter sputtered. "Why didn't you say something?" This was not good. They were leagues away from any kind of decent medical care center, and he had no formal training or education in the treatment of injuries beyond the basics. If it had been him who had been wounded, the basics he knew would have been sufficient; but, not for Alice.

The girl shook her head, shooting him a brave smile. "It's okay. I just need a minute. It really is just a scratch...well, a little deeper than that, but I'll live. Trust me, I've had worse," she assured him calmly. In spite of the situation, she let out a small laugh. "Wow, it is so much easier to ignore wounds and pain when you're in the midst of a fight."

Hatter did not even want to contemplate the implications behind that statement at this particular moment. His hands itched to swing her up into his arms and trek all the way back to the boat and back to the city, jabberwocks, Suits, and belligerent Resistance leaders be damned. She must have noticed his distress, for she laid a hand on his forearm and squeezed it. "I'll be fine, Hatter," she reiterated firmly. "Like I said, I've had way worse injuries than this and still kept on my feet."

The old man decided to insert himself, uninvited, into the conversation. His pompous tone from earlier changed to one of actual concern as he asked, "Are you wounded, my lady? I am frightfully sorry if my Gravity-Assisted Snare has led you to undue harm. Please, allow me to assist you."

Alice rose gingerly to her feet with Hatter (who could not help himself) holding onto her arm as both a protective measure and a reassurance that she really was well. She surveyed the armored old man and said, "Thanks for the concern, but I'll be fine." A short pause followed before she asked in perplexity,"Um...who are you?"

The old man drew himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest and squaring his shoulders as if he had been given an order by a superior. "Why I am a knight! The _White Knight_ to be precise," he answered with grandeur, sweeping a bow. Hatter could have sworn the creaking he heard as the old codger bent at the waist was from his bones and not the rusty armor.

The so-called White Knight then added with superfluous ostentation, "Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringhay Le Malvoy the Third!" Then another bow while adding in a more subdued (but still grandiose) tone, "At your service."

"You're a _White_ _Knight_?" Hatter repeated skeptically. The man's armor certainly did lend some credence to that assertion, but it could have easily been bought or stolen. He imagined that, although the fabled knights of old were dead and gone, their armor would be considered a grand antique. But he was well known for being able to sniff out a lie. He did not smell any deception here. That meant either one of two things (and the young man was almost positive which one would be the case). Either the old man really was the sole remnant of a people who had been exterminated over 150 years ago, or, through the work of delusion, he merely believed himself to be one.

"That's what I said. But now the question remains, _who_ are _you_?" Again, the volume and eyebrows rose with the random emphasizing. Hatter wondered if that was a quirk particular to this man or if all the White Knights had spoken like this.

"He's Hatter," Alice replied. "And I'm Alice."

The knight's eyes grew wider than Hatter's tea saucers upon that revelation. He leaned his face uncomfortably close to Alice's. "Alice? _The_ Alice? _The_ Alice of _Legend_?"

Hatter felt annoyance ripple through his companion. "No," she corrected in exasperation. "_Just_ Alice."

The man's mouth drooped in dismay as he sounded out the words _Just Alice_, as if the word _just_ were also part of her name.

Feeling the need to redirect the conversation to a more productive route, Hatter cut in. "I thought all you guys were wiped out years ago."

"Well, _you_ thought _wrong_," Sir Charles retorted haughtily. He pounded his chest plate and thrust his nose up into the air. "As you can see, I'm as fit as a butcher's dog!"

Though that particular analogy made no sense whatsoever, if the man was indeed a White Knight, he must have more steel in his aging body than Hatter thought. After all, it was a considerable feat to survive annihilation of one's entire people and then live for well over a century afterwards. And, if one White Knight had survived, perhaps there were more out there in hiding like this fellow. The image of a small army of old men in decrepit armor with the white sheen of paint cracking and peeling filled Hatter's head.

Alice must have been thinking along the same lines as him because she inquired with a shrill note of hope in her voice, "Are there anymore like you?" If there were, being natural enemies of the Queen of Hearts could make them sympathizers, and possible allies, to their cause. It could mean wonders for the morale of the Resistance if it were discovered some of these ancient warriors were still around and kicking. It might just appease Dodo enough to call off whatever hits he may have ordered on Hatter. Of course, such a plan was only feasible if they could convince the White Knights to aid their cause. From the sound of it, Sir Charles here had been isolated from the world outside the Tulgey Wood for a very long time. He, and any others of his kind, might find their lives of solitude within the forest too comfortable to leave behind for the sake of fighting an old and powerful enemy.

"Certainly not," Sir Charles replied, chuckling good naturedly. "I'm a one-off. My old nan used to say that if I were the only eligible bachelor left in the world there wasn't a warthog or wallflower who'd polish my escutcheon." He spoke while wandering off to gather up his myriad assortment of tools, one of them most definitely being a shovel. The thought that this old, mad knight had dug that pit in order to trap a jabberwock was a hard pill to swallow. It seemed logical that he probably had help from another knight or two.

"No, I mean other knights," Alice clarified. "You know...your buddies...your comrades-in-arms?"

"What? Other _knights_?" the old man shot back incredulously. His incredulity at the idea caused Hatter's hope to sink like a stone in a lake. "Heavens no! Are you mad? We were all wiped out years ago."

"Oh," Alice said, visibly deflating. "So...you've been alone all this time?" She sounded both astounded and saddened by the thought.

"Yes," the old knight responded nonchalantly. "Well, except for my loyal steeds Archie and Guinevere."

Hatter never thought it was possible, but he felt a swell of pity for the man. "Wait, so you're saying you dug this pit on your own, then?" he commented with blatant skepticism in his voice.

He had not intended to offend the knight, but the old man seemed to take quite a great degree of offense nonetheless. Sir Charles turned and stomped over to them, his finger thrust before him accusingly. "You think I'm too old, boy? Well, let _me_ tell _you_ something, knug-face! _Youth_ is vastly _overrated_!" He stopped just in front of them, as both Hatter and Alice were still standing right in front of the pit. "I may have put on a _few_ years!" Hatter smothered his ironic snort at the word _few. "_But I'm _crafty_. Oh yes, indeed. I've a very inventive and calculating mind stacked high with countless ground-breaking, state-of-the-art ideas. I invent all _sorts_ of _things_!" Sir Charles drew himself up with obvious pride. "The beehive mousetrap, for instance."

With a withering glare directed towards Hatter, he pointed to the pit while informing them bitterly, "This that you have so crassly referred to as a _pit _is, as I have already said, the Gravity-Assisted Snare, mark four. This was my third attempt, but, thanks to you, I shall now have to make a fourth attempt." He huffed in pointed aggravation.

"Well, I can definitely say we're both very sorry to have fallen into your...Gravity-Assisted Snare," Alice said diplomatically, her hand still tenderly placed upon her wounded left side. "Trust me, if we could have avoided it, we would have."

Sir Charles stared at her for a moment, his nose twitching unfathomably before wandering away, muttering to himself.

"He's as mad as a box of frogs," Hatter declared quietly, watching the old man amble about as if he were in search of something.

"Wow, you two should go at it with the weird analogies," Alice quipped in amusement.

"How the hell have you survived?" Hatter bluntly asked the old knight.

The knight walked back over towards them, his eyes roving around the area. "Well, I _am_ a knight. And an inventor, as I said." With a few chuckles, he added while nodding his head, "Though if I am honest, it's strictly on a part-time basis, yes."

His eyes grew wide and his arms rose. Dropping his voice to a stage-whisper, the man declared ominously, "I also dabble in the _black arts_, every now and again. Soothsaying, toenail readings, that sort of thing." He snatched up Alice's left hand while saying enthusiastically, "Here, let me show you. Just give me your palm."

Alice snatched her arm back, but it was a moment too late. The knight had seen the ring, its large gem winking in the late afternoon light through the gaps in the tree canopy. She clenched her fist in an attempt to hide the ring from view.

"What's that on your finger?" the knight asked, sounding perplexed and oddly hopeful.

"Nothing," Alice replied in a failed attempt to sound glib. But her voice was an octave too high to sound anything but suspicious.

Stricken with wonder, the man asserted breathlessly, "It's the sacred ring! The Stone of Wonderland! _Our _ring!" His pale blue eyes sparkled with wetness.

Hatter brought his hand up to place it firmly on the old knight's dented chest plate. With a gentle, but firm, push, he put himself between the knight and Alice. "Don't get too excited, Granddad. The ring stays on the lady's finger, got it?" He did not want to hurt an old man, but he would do whatever was necessary to protect Alice and the ring.

Sir Charles did not appear to even notice Hatter's intervention. He dropped to his knees, his face turned up to the sky with an expression of pure rapture upon his face as if he had just seen the light of heaven. "It is meant to be! This time, this place, this meeting in the woods! Fate has chosen _me_!"

"Okay, we need to get away from him before he gets us killed," Hatter decided, perturbed by this change of character. He pulled Alice away from the kneeling knight to speak with her privately a few yards away.

"Hang on, Hatter, he might be able to help us," Alice protested.

_"Him_?" Hatter responded cynically, glancing over at the knight who was still on his knees and now rocking back and forth. "Alice, he doesn't seem, well, right in the head, if you ask me. I think all he'd do is draw attention to us. And we really don't need that right now."

"But," she said, holding up her hand to cease his protests before continuing, "he has survived here in these woods on his own for, well, over a hundred years apparently. He's obviously doing something right. At the very least, he must have a very good hiding spot. We could ask him to let us stay there at least for a night so we can get some rest and try to figure out what we're going to do." She looked down at herself, cringing. "And I don't know about you, but I really want a bath."

_A bath?_ Her priorities obviously differed from his own, but his all too male mind immediately leapt upon the image of Alice, dripping wet and naked. As beguiling as that blue dress had looked while clinging to her wet form earlier, he could only imagine how much more alluring she would appear without it. _Oh bloody hell, this is not the time,_ he scolded himself.

"Hey," Alice called over to the knight. "Sir Charles, there are some people after us who kind of want to kill us and take the ring and do some very bad things with it." Hatter almost laughed at the simplistic way in which she worded their situation. The old knight gave no sign of hearing her, but she went on. "Do you know of somewhere we could hide or, well, lay low for a bit?"

"The stars are aligned in a cosmic ray of hope!" Sir Charles cried euphorically.

Hatter glanced at Alice with his eyebrow cocked. "You sure you want to put your faith in him?" he mumbled doubtfully.

Alice glanced over at the kneeling, fawning knight, a conflicted expression on her face. "Well, we don't exactly have a lot of allies. And, I know he may be 150 and well, a little crazy, but you try spending a century in these woods on your own and see how mentally intact you turn out?" Hatter had no answer for that. It was a good point.

"Anyway, he's definitely a survivor. You have to respect that," Alice pointed out.

"And I'm not deaf!" The old knight rejoined the conversation, apparently having heard and noted everything Alice had said to him. He rose to his feet and turned to the two of them. _"Justalice_, I, Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringhay Le Malvoy the Third, White Knight and Guardian of the Curtsey," he paused to actually perform a curtsey, "would be honored to escort you, your goods, and your..." his eyes fell disdainfully upon Hatter "vassal to my kingdom."

Alice snorted in amusement at Sir Charles's categorization of Hatter as her servant. Hatter, for his part, did not find it quite so humorous. "Did he just call me your _vassal_?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, smirking devilishly. "Well, apparently I'm _your_ oyster."

"Touché," Hatter conceded wearily. He should have known she might have taken some offense to that.

Sir Charles gathered the rest of his gear and then beckoned to the two of them. "Right this way, my lady..."and he fluttered about for a manner by which to properly address Hatter. He finally appeared to settle on "you."

As they followed him, Alice bragged in a sing-song voice, "He likes me more than you, ha ha ha ha."

Hatter would almost have been annoyed with her had she not looked so wondrously lovely in her good spirits. Her blithe mood caught him slightly off guard, especially considering she had been nearly gobbled up by a jabberwock and then wounded when they fell into that knight's pit. It was certainly an improvement upon the mood she had been in when he had first met her.

Sir Charles led them to a small cluster of trees in a clearing where two horses were tethered to a low hanging branch. One was a gray stallion and the other was a smaller, chestnut mare. Both were equipped with brown leather saddles. The mare also had a peculiar contraption attached to the back of her saddle. It was an elaborately woven net which formed the shape of a square. The net was adorned with tasseled ends and flowed down to trail upon the ground a few feet behind the horse.

Both horses regarded the return of their master by flicking their ears and lifting their heads up from the grass they were contentedly grazing upon. Sir Charles patted their noses affectionately. "Allow me to introduce Archibald and Guinevere," the knight announced with a wave of his hand and another bow. "My lady, Guinevere shall carry you and your vassal to my sacred kingdom where you will be safe from your pursuers. And, please, if you will, call me Charlie. Sir Charles was my father." He chuckled a bit, slapping his chest plate at the joke he apparently was the only one to get.

Hatter and Alice slowly approached the mare, who was eyeing the two strangers with cautious interest. Hatter tentatively reached out a hand to let the animal get a whiff of his scent before he awkwardly patted her nose. Alice stared at the creature with the same wariness she had demonstrated.

"Don't suppose you know how to ride a horse, do you?" she inquired.

"Well, it has been a few years since I've had cause to get on one, but, yeah, I know how," he told her. "Let me guess, you don't know how to ride a horse."

"In theory, yes, but I live in a fricken city. The last horse I even attempted to ride threw me over a fence and almost broke my back," she grumbled while eyeing the horse resentfully as if this one were the one which had thrown her. "I was never one of those girls who wanted a pony."

"I can assure you, my lady, Guinevere is a gentle soul. She will bear you safely," Charlie said while packing his tools into a leather satchel attached to the saddle of Archibald. He tightened the leather thong and then, with a dexterity that belied his age, hopped upon the horse.

"Come on," Hatter said, untying the halter which tethered Guinevere to the branch. "Just sit behind me and hold on. I can hold the reins and lead her." He grasped the brown pommel and swung himself up onto the saddle and then extended his hand to help Alice up. She emitted a resigned sigh and got on the horse with minimal difficulty. At first, she just sat there trying to balance herself with her hands splayed out and palms flat on the animal's rump behind her. Hatter did not see such a position boding well for her comfort, or in the event that they had to kick up the pace or make a jump. She did not appear to want to hold onto him. He did not know whether to be insulted or bemused by her obstinacy.

"I'm not going to bite," Hatter told Alice in a dry tone.

She snorted and shook her head before scooting forward to lightly but securely wrap her hands around his lean torso. It took a few more minutes to steal Charlie's attention from whatever was so enthralling him on the back of his gauntlet. Once they got the senior knight to realize they were ready to go, the old man cleared his throat and cantered over in front of them.

"Just follow me, my lady and my lady's servant," Charlie announced in his trademark grandiose tone better reserved for royalty rather than a teashop owner and an oyster.

_I swear, he's calling me that just to annoy me now. You can keep running with the daft old codger routine all you like, Charlie, but I think you're sharper than you look._ The tremors radiating from the girl behind him into his own frame indicated that Alice was trying to hide her sudden fit of giggles. "Well, I'm happy to see you're so amused by my humiliation," he retorted in a tone that came out sounding a little more aggrieved than he intended. Her compassionate response was to laugh harder.

"You sure did pick a strange time to discover your sense of humor," Hatter remarked, turning slightly to see her face.

She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Occupational habit, I suppose."

He frowned in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Her smile dissipated slowly and her brow furrowed. "I told you, it's a long story. So can it wait until I have some kind of a bath and some food?"

Hatter had no choice but to acquiesce to that, but his curiosity and his unease about Alice's uncanny abilities and her cryptic remarks had grown tenfold.

Charlie set a slow, casual pace as he sat upon his horse loudly singing an absurd song to himself. At first, Hatter was worried both the pace and the noise would conspire to attract Mad March and the posse of Suits to their location. However, upon feeling Alice tapping his shoulder to draw his attention to the ground behind the horse, he saw that even the resurrected assassin-tracker would find it difficult to follow them. The strange net which had been tied to the back of the saddle on Guinevere and trailed to the ground was apparently not just a peculiar adornment. As they moved, the tasseled net slid on the ground behind them and, in its wake, their tracks were magically filled in. In addition to that, little green shoots of grass would pop up, effectively concealing their path from view. The net was making it look like no one, not even forest creatures, had ever trod upon the ground.

"Well, that's nifty," Alice commented appreciatively.

"Yeah, it even works over mud," Hatter noted. "Maybe old Charlie does have a trick or two up his escutcheon." He and Alice both snorted at the last word.

She was sitting very close to him now; so close, in fact, that he could feel her tiny wisps of breath tickle the hairs on the nape of his neck. Every time she did that (which was quite often since she needed to breathe), his heartbeat sped up. He had never been that physically close to another person for such an extended period in a very long time. The physical contact was incredibly distracting, far more so than it should have been considering all she was doing was clasping her hands around his torso to keep herself stable upon the horse. He tried to keep his focus upon Charlie up ahead, but his treacherous mind seemed only want to pay attention to the outline of his companion's lithe body pressing up against his back. She seemed to meld against him perfectly.

_Remember, she's here trying to save her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Don't you go making things all uncomfortable and awkward_, he silently chastised himself.

Fortunately, Guinevere seemed to know what to do even if her temporary master was currently engaged in an internal debate with his libido. She plodded along after Charlie and Archibald without any trouble. They eventually emerged from the woody path into a hilly green meadow. The field was sparsely populated with conifers, but several yards ahead Hatter could see a thick line of trees capping what he suspected was just another portion of the Tulgey Wood.

As they traversed the field, they passed an enormous white mushroom. Its stalk towered into the sky, forcing the cap of the huge fungus to breach the cloud line. He awaited Alice's reaction, guessing such things were not found in her world.

Apparently, she was more bemused by its presence than amazed. "A giant mushroom," she remarked in a deadpan tone. "Huh, well, that explains a lot about this world. That could get you hallucinating for years, I'll bet."

Hatter cocked an eyebrow. "People from your world use mushrooms to hallucinate?" he asked skeptically. He had never heard of such a thing.

Alice rolled her shoulders behind him, ostensibly in a shrug or to merely stretch out cramped muscles. "Well, we mostly use mushrooms for eating. But, yeah, some people do indulge in what we call 'shrooms' just to get high."

"Have you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"No," she said, chuckling sardonically. "I can't really afford to get high."

They passed through the border of trees and the air immediately grew cooler and denser. Up ahead, Hatter noticed the trail seemed to disappear behind a veil of moss, leaves, and vines strung up between the trees. Charlie guided Archibald over to the mossy veil and drew it back while beckoning Hatter and Alice to come closer.

"Welcome," the old knight announced, his grandiose tone this time demanding quiet and respect. "Welcome to the Kingdom of the Knights."

Hatter was thunderstruck with awe by the scene before him. Nestled in a rocky valley were the majestic remnants of the fabled kingdom of old which he had only heard about through garbled stories and legends. There was an enormous canyon separating the kingdom into two parts with two crumbling stone bridges connecting the pieces. Gigantic chest pieces towered over what remained of the myriad homes and structures of the ancient kingdom. Time had done its work in eroding the structures and allowing nature to creep in and claim dominion over this once beautiful and great city that had once had dominion over all of Wonderland.

"Wow," Alice breathed as she peered at the view over his shoulder. "I feel like I'm in Rivendell."

Hatter did not bother to ask where that was, supposing it must have been some ancient city back in her world. He gulped down the strange mass which had materialized in the middle of his throat. A wondrous, inexplicable feeling was sweeping through him.

_I had no idea this was still here,_ he thought. Surely the Queen of Hearts would have utterly destroyed all this. That was what he had been told about the ancient Kingdom of the Knights since he had been a child. Hatter had always believed there not to be a speck left of them save for what remained in books; books the queen was also attempting to wipe out of existence. It was widely thought only the memory of these people remained, and, if the queen had her way, even that would soon be gone. But the evidence was there before his eyes. A White Knight had led them here. A member of a people who were all supposed to be dead and gone had led them to a city which was likewise supposed to be completely obliterated. The knowledge that even the formidable Queen of Hearts was fallible, that she apparently had not been completely successful in destroying this place and its people, made his chest swell with hope. It was hope for the Resistance, which, up till now, he had never fully believed stood a chance against her.

_Just think of what this will mean to them,_ he wondered. _But, they'll never know, 'cause I'm not going back. I can't go back._ Doubt about his plans to return with Alice in order to escape retribution overcame him. If he left with Alice as he had intended before he saw this ruined city, the Resistance would never know of its existence. On a more positive note, that also meant the queen would never know of its existence. If she ever found out, she might be inclined to finish what she started over a century and a half ago. He clenched the reins tightly as he began to doubt that the choice which served his self-preserving tendencies was the right one.

_What is this little oyster doing to me?_

If Alice noticed Hatter's troubled mood, she gave no indication of it as they were led to a small, wooden shelter with hay, oats, and a water trough. This, no doubt, was where the horses were kept. They dismounted, both of them vocally grateful to be standing on the ground with their own two legs. He set to work helping Charlie unsaddle the horses, rub them down, and check their hooves. It may have been a very long time since he had ridden a horse, but the rules of traveling on horseback were still ingrained in his mind. The care of the horses always preceded the care of one's self. The horses gratefully dipped their mouths into the sparkling, cool water in the trough while Charlie waved Hatter and Alice over to follow him further into the city. As they walked, Charlie supplied the two of them with the history of the place.

"Before the war with the Queen of Hearts," he said solemnly, "this was once the greatest city in the realm. The Red King and his elected council ruled Wonderland with the wisdom of the ages."

"And the Queen of Hearts destroyed it all?" Alice spoke up, her voice brimming with wonder and sorrow. She was craning her neck, studying the huge structures which had long since been invaded by plant life.

Charlie nodded grimly. "We lived in harmony for 1,000 years. But when the queen came to power, she just wanted to feel the good, not the bad."

Just a few yards away following a rather precarious pathway down some giant tree roots was a large clearing amidst the towering trees and chess piece statues. Charlie gestured toward it while saying, "Believe it or not, this area used to be the throne room."

There was definitely no longer a room to speak of, Hatter noticed. It looked like a permanent camping enclosure. There was a fire pit, a woven hammock, a clothesline strung up between two trees, a wooden bench, and another small, somewhat dilapidated wooden barn with a wooden gate in front of it. Upon further inspection, he also saw that there was a white bathtub stationed near the closest approximation he could come to for a gateway to the encampment.

"Sadly, all that remains now is the throne," Charlie pointed out. Hatter and Alice followed his gesture to see that not only was there a large marble throne coated with a layer of decorative greenery, but there was a skeleton sitting in it. It could be none other than the Red King, decked out in suit armor, rusted chain mail, and a tarnished golden crown with his bony digits still clutching the bejeweled hilt of a sword.

"The king still sits upon his throne," Hatter whispered, partly awed and partly perturbed by the grisly royal corpse on permanent sentry duty.

"Well, I hope he has somewhere other than that bathtub to bathe because I am not putting on a show," Alice deadpanned.

Hatter guffawed and slapped her on the back. Suddenly, he remembered she was injured and he felt extremely angry with himself for having forgotten.

"Alice, let me see your wound. Are you still bleeding? We need to get that cleaned and bandaged," he said anxiously.

Upon hearing the subject, Charlie jumped to attention. "Oh yes, please, my lady, allow me to fetch you some supplies so you may treat and bind your wound. I have a very good unguent I developed myself. Takes the sting away and encourages healing, I assure you." Without even waiting for a response, the old knight clambered off down the pathway and into the encampment.

"Wow," Alice noted. "A girl gets excellent service around here." She turned her gaze on Hatter and frowned at his pointed glare.

"Let me see it, Alice," he asserted. He even stooped so low as to slap his hands to his hips, but at least he did not submit to tapping his foot.

"Yes, doctor," she replied petulantly while rolling her eyes.

While taking off the velvet jacket, she warned him, "It's going to look worse than it actually is. I may as well go ahead and tell you I can take a lot more damage than most people. I also heal a lot faster."

_She would have had to put that to the test to know that..._He stopped his thoughts there. The faintest of pictures was beginning to be drawn for him and he did not like what he was seeing.

Well, her wound definitely looked worse than he had hoped, but not nearly as bad as he had first feared. Her lovely blue dress had a long, jagged, horizontal rip in the side, but what skin was exposed was covered with partially dried blood. The blue fabric was stained brownish-red with the darkest of the stains closest to the tear. She allowed him to pull the sides of the tear in her dress apart so he could get a better look at the wound. It was a deep laceration about the same width of his wrist to the tip of his middle finger. It was no longer oozing blood, which was some cause for relief. The gash looked like it had even knit together almost all the way.

Hatter had no formal medical training whatsoever. What he knew about wound care was entirely self-taught through receiving his own wounds and injuries over the years. The inspection of her wound had been entirely for his peace of mind. He needed to assure himself that she truly was all right. All the same, he tried to put on an air of casual knowledge when he looked up at her. "Well, I suppose just clean it with some water and wrap it real tight. Just try to be careful and make sure it doesn't...ehm...fester," he said, his voice oddly tremulous.

Her eyes glinted as if to silently tell him she knew what he was doing, but did not mind at all. "Thanks," she said quietly.

Hatter's heart started to thump giddily once more as her blue gaze fell upon him, those crystalline irises piercing through him. For once, he could not get a firm grasp on what she was feeling. His own latent emotions were running amok. He felt a sudden terror grip him, a terror that was at once wonderful and dreadful. The whole world could have stopped existing around him and he would not have cared so long as he could have this moment, this moment of just standing still here with Alice, gazing into her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes and those smooth, cherry lips.

_What's happening? Why am I feeling like this? What am I feeling?_

"I...ah...am going to find Charlie...and...um...see about that bath," Alice stuttered. She, too, appeared to be grappling with her own internal chaos. Pulling the velvet coat on, she rushed past Hatter into the encampment.

He was left staring after her in bewilderment wondering what had just happened.

* * *

It's official. I can't seem to write anything without making some sort of reference to The Lord of the Rings. That's the third one by my count haha. It's like searching for pineapples in Psych episodes. I'm surprised I haven't fit a Harry Potter reference in there, actually. Oh, I'm sure one will turn up eventually.

Anyhow, I must forewarn that there will be a gap between updating coming up here. From June 25th till July 15th, I will be gone to spend time with my beloved boyfriend at the beach. I will post most likely one more chapter before I leave (maybe two if you keep your fingers crossed). All chapters that are posted have been written well in advance, actually. I just don't allow myself to post a chapter until I finish one further down the line. I keep a running status of the story at my profile, so you may refer there to see how it's going.

That's all except for, as always, I'd love to hear any and all thoughts from my readers!


	10. The Truth Bites

I really should not have released this as I did not complete the chapter I had intended to finish before submitting this one. But, since I love you all dearly and did not want to leave you all dangling for two and a half weeks, I decided to give you a going-away treat. It also helps that I'm in a super good mood since I get to see my darling boyfriend tomorrow. I haven't been able to see him for over a month...Right, well, enough about me. On with the story!

* * *

**Chapter IX: **The Truth Bites

Alice surveyed the small bathing pool Charlie had directed her towards with skepticism. It was probably only about fifteen feet in diameter with reeds and cattails growing at the edge. A sparse border of scrub provided scanty concealment from spying eyes. Charlie and Hatter were the only other two people she could sense in the vicinity of the area, but she could not shake her city-born wariness of bathing in what was, essentially, a glorified pond. But the young Slayer felt far too filthy to resist the allure of its sparkling clean water. In her world, even ponds isolated like this were bound to accrue garbage from careless campers and hikers; the sludge eventually marring the beauty of the still waters. The water in this bathing pool was immaculate.

She could hear bullfrogs hidden amongst the reeds bellow their evening dirges. The sun had dipped well below the horizon by now, its dying rays casting the sky in a purple-pink glow which was being gradually overtaken by the darker blue-black of night. A crescent moon was gracing the sky. It cast its wan silver light while its entourage of stars slowly brightened as the domineering sun sank lower. Even in the dimming light Alice's vision remained incredibly sharp, another perk of being a supernaturally enhanced being. She scanned the area with both her eyes and her deeper senses a few more times before deciding it was safe enough to undress.

After sliding off her boots, she carefully unzipped and peeled off her dress, which was tricky since the blood from her wound had caused the fabric to adhere to her skin somewhat. Charlie had provided her with small bottles of various soaps for her body, hair, and clothes, as well as scrubbing implements. She was not sure she wanted to bother washing her clothes since she did not have anything else to wear and did not fancy trying to sleep in wet garments. The most she would try to do was try to wash some of the bloodstains out of the dress. Washing bloodstains out of clothing was an activity Slayers usually became very adept at within the first few months of hunting.

She set to work scrubbing at the reddish-brown stain around the tear. The menial task allowed her mind to drift back to that strange, uncomfortable moment with Hatter back at the encampment earlier. She had no idea what had happened between them. All he had been doing was checking over her wound, though she knew there was little he could do about it personally. She had known he was doing it more for his own sake than for hers, which was annoyingly endearing. Things had been perfectly fine until he had looked at her with that look. It was that look that made her knees wobbly and her stomach flip over in a similar manner as to when she was facing heights, but not nearly so gut-wrenching with terror. His dark eyes had locked onto her own, and the girl with super strength had found she could not summon the strength to look away for a few seconds. A few seconds was all it had taken for Alice to realize some very troubling facts.

Hatter liked her. There was that fact, which, while it could make things awkward, was not really that much of an issue. She had handled one-sided infatuations back in her world before in the work-place (which included both her cover job and her real job). There was a certain finesse one developed in certain situations like that. The only problem here was she had realized this was not a situation like that. For she was not altogether certain the infatuation was totally one-sided. When he had been gazing at her back in the encampment, she had believed for a moment that he was going to bend down and kiss her. What was truly troubling about such a notion was that a larger part of her than she wanted to acknowledge had been hoping he would do it.

Yes, she was beginning to become more and more certain she was developing feelings for Hatter.

But such a thing could not be. Her logical mind rebelled against it, outlaying all the reasons she _should_ not and _could_ not be having feelings beyond friendship for a man who had built his life on subterfuge. Reason number one: she was already in a relationship with the very man she had come to this gods-forsaken place to rescue. Alice cared deeply for Jack and she was desperately worried about him. She did not know if he was imprisoned in that casino place like all the other people from her world were or if he was being forced to undergo further punishment as that white-haired man had alluded to. What mattered was that he was in this predicament as a result of her petty commitment problems. To be suddenly developing feelings for another man even though she had not acted upon them made her feel like she was committing the worst of treacheries.

Reason number two: she had only met Hatter that morning, or, at least she thought it was sometime in the morning that she had arrived here. Alice did not believe in that fairy tale nonsense of love at first sight. She had not even liked Hatter when she first met him. He had grown on her since that time, but to have it develop to the point where she was fantasizing about him kissing her was just preposterous. It had taken her three months with Jack to even allow him to formally meet her mother. It had certainly taken longer than a day with Jack to begin to feel those curious organ-flipping sensations she had been feeling with Hatter. Actually, she was not even certain she had ever felt such flighty sensations around Jack.

Her mind continually repeated the same thing. She could not be growing feelings for Hatter. She barely knew him! But her heart and her emotions apparently thought otherwise.

_Calm down, Alice, it's just all that's happened...you're emotionally charged. You're just...misinterpreting your feelings,_ she tried to tell herself. _He's about your age, he's good looking, he's charming in his own way, he's practically lost everything just to help you...you're just feeling indebted to him. And that's tricking you into thinking you're starting to like him as more than a friend. That's all it is. Once everything is all over and you've managed to rescue Jack and get back home, you'll get some new perspective and realize Hatter's just a friend._

Her psychological pep talk sounded plausible. It was a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything. It could even be used to explain Hatter's feelings for her. They had both been thrown into an extraordinary situation and practically had only each other to rely on. It was inevitable that feelings would arise which would trick them into thinking they were infatuated with one another. Even if they were infatuated with one another, there was no way feelings brought on by such bizarre circumstances could last once everything was over. Right?

She stopped scrubbing the dress when she realized she must have been working at the same spot for almost fifteen minutes. Glancing down, her eyes widened in shock when she saw that the bloodstain had miraculously vanished. Alice grabbed the bottle and sniffed it. The scent carried the essence of what she presumed were jasmine and lavender along with other floral scents she could not identify. Whatever it was composed of, it worked better than any stain remover from her world.

Glancing up at the sky, the young Slayer cringed when she saw it was nearly full dark now. She had been stuck in her own angst-ridden reverie for far longer than she realized.

Before Charlie or Hatter decided to send a search party (i.e. themselves), Alice unhooked her bra, shimmied out of her pantyhose and panties, and splashed into the pool. The water was surprisingly warm for all that the night air was chilly. It seemed to seep into her cramped muscles and joints, soothing the aches right out of them. She let out a blissful sigh of contentment, dipping her head under the water to wet her mass of dark hair.

_Magic is all around this place. Definitely more so than in the city,_ she silently noted.

Though she would have loved to linger in the water (being nude was surprisingly refreshing), she knew Charlie and Hatter would probably start to get concerned if she stayed out much longer. She scrubbed her hair and body with the bottles of soap Charlie had provided, trying to remind herself to ask him if he had concocted these mixtures himself. After rinsing her locks clean, she emerged from the pool, dripping wet.

"Crap, I forgot to ask him for a towel," she muttered. She resorted to shaking her hair out as best she could. There was a pile of linen strips the old knight had given to her to use for bandages, but none of them were large enough to serve as a towel.

Before pulling her clothes back on she applied the salve Charlie had given to her for her wound. It did not smell nearly as nice as the soaps, but it did take the sting away from the wound, as he had promised. She then applied the linen bandage to the healing laceration and tied it around her waist. _By tomorrow this will be over halfway healed,_ she thought to herself. The original Slayers did not even heal that fast at first. It seemed that the longer a Slayer survived, the more potent her abilities became. The spell which had been performed to activate all Slayers had given the new ones a similar boost so that they were all _almost_ as powerful as Buffy upon activation.

"Alice! Have you drowned or something?" Hatter's voice floated through the trees from the direction of Charlie's campsite. She instinctively covered herself, though she knew he was not close enough to get a glimpse of her.

"I'll be there in a sec! Just gotta get dressed!" she yelled back, snatching up her clothes and quickly pulling them on.

As she was buckling her boots back on, her internal alarm system started to alert her that she was no longer alone. Someone or something was watching her. She knew it was neither Charlie nor Hatter. This was something which was far more powerful than those two. Alice rose, her eyes alert and her body tense, looking around the area to see where this _other_ might be. If the presence had been there while she had been bathing, she was going to be royally incensed. She had not felt it while she had been bathing, but that did not preclude the possibility that it had been there. It may have been there the entire time, but had cloaked itself from her notice. It was no easy feat to escape the notice of a Slayer who was deliberately scanning an area for other presences. That meant it was something _very_ powerful. The thought of it alarmed her, as she could not get a reading on its nature. She could not ascertain if this presence was benevolent or malevolent. She could not even tell what kind of presence it was. Her best estimate was that it was some kind of a spirit, most likely non-demonic since Slayers could normally sense that. But it was known that some demonic spirits were powerful enough to cloak their true natures even from the Slayers.

"Okay, I know you're here. Stop pissing me off and just show yourself," she demanded, forcing authority into her tone to subdue the unease which wracked her body.

"Alice!" Hatter shouted. "We're starving over here and Sir Lancelot doesn't appear to want to eat until Her Ladyship does!" He sounded closer now, but he seemed to be wisely choosing to keep his distance in case she was still indecent.

Alice gathered up the bottles and excess linens, warily glancing around her. Whatever was here had decided it did not want to be seen, but it must have definitely wanted her to know it was here. She felt positive about that. However, at the moment, her stomach was gurgling insistently, reminding her that she had not eaten in a long time. She turned her back on the bathing pool area and began to walk back to the encampment.

She did not see the pair of green-blue eyes with black oval slits materialize on a tree-branch. They followed her movements with keen interest for a few seconds before winking out of sight again.

* * *

Alice had no idea what a borogove was, but it was definitely something she wished existed in her world. When she tasted the meat which Charlie had roasting on the spit above the campfire, she had groaned with pleasure at the burst of flavors in her mouth. It was succulent and tender with a taste that ran somewhere between steak, venison, and chicken. An avid seafood lover, she would have taken this borogove meat over a tuna steak any day of the week.

"Charlie, this is amazing. Bravo," she praised warmly while looking over at Hatter, who was munching on his own food appreciatively. Not a word had actually passed between them since she had returned to the campsite. There had merely been a silent glance which had basically said he was not going to bring up that awkward incident unless she wanted to discuss it. At the moment, she had more pressing issues on her mind, but they were not issues she wanted to bring up over their scrumptious dinner. This was something she hoped to deal with on her own. Hatter had probably had more than enough trouble in one day.

"Why, thank you, _Justalice__,"_ Charlie replied with a bow. "Borogove are the devil to catch, mind you. But well worth the trouble, don't you think?"

Her mouth full of food, she only nodded. Swallowing her food, she promptly decided it was time to clear up the name issue. "By the way, Charlie, my name isn't _Justalice_. It's Alice. I only said the _just_ part because I am not the Alice of Legend," she explained.

Charlie frowned at her. "So, it's just Alice and not _Justalice_?" he asked, his mustache twitching.

It sounded to Alice like he had merely said the same thing twice so she just shrugged and nodded her head. "Um, yeah. Sure." After all he had done for her and Hatter she supposed Charlie had the right to call her whatever he wished.

Charlie released the handle of the spit and rubbed his hands together. "Shan't be long," he announced brightly before wandering off towards the dark edges of the campsite, eventually slipping out of view.

Alone, a temporary silence ensued between Hatter and Alice. He sat across from her, munching on his food and seeming to glance everywhere but at her. This was a remarkable change from the easy camaraderie during the journey to this place. Alice would have given anything to have that camaraderie back.

"So, uh, you got your dress all cleaned up, I noticed," Hatter finally remarked nervously.

Alice had left the jacket hanging across the log she was sitting upon, feeling the heat of the campfire was more than enough to warm her up. She lightly brushed over the tear in the dress where the white of the linen bandages could be seen. "Oh yeah," she said lightly. "That soap Charlie gave me got that bloodstain right out. I might have to take some back with me. We could really use that back home. I mean, Jesus, it's really hard to get bloodstains out that well. I can't tell you how many clothes I can't wear anymore because of a stupid faint brown stain..." She trailed off when she saw that her morbid words were causing Hatter's expression to contort into a grimace of horrified confusion.

"You..." he started numbly. He cleared his throat and swallowed before speaking again. "You routinely get bloodstains in your clothes back home?"

Alice floundered for a way to clear off the panic that was setting in his gaze. She had not intended to make things sound so incredibly morbid as that. It was merely that such issues had become so commonplace in her life that it was easy to forget most people would find it horrific. "Well, not _routinely_ routinely...just..." _a few times a month...erm...sometimes a few times a week, depending on if there's an apocalyptic event going on. _She knew that now she could not postpone telling Hatter the truth. He would not rest tonight (not to mention he would not let her rest) if she did not divulge what she was and what she did.

"Alice, wha...who are you back in your world?" Hatter asked softly. Though he had caught himself, Alice noticed that he had been about to ask her _what_ instead of _who_ she was. While most people might take offense to that, she did not. It was a reasonable question. After all, he had seen her perform some rather _inhuman_ feats.

She was silent for a moment as she composed an answer in her mind. This was going to be difficult, but she was determined to be forthright with him. He deserved no less after all they had been through together. So, with a resigned sigh, she replied, "I'm an only child with a single mom. I'm a part-time student at Ohio State University. I teach karate on a part-time basis to students of all ages. That's everything Alice Marie Hamilton is on paper. That's all most people would see or ever know about me." The girl grew silent again as her nerve deserted her. She bit on her lip and twisted her hands together, not knowing how to even begin to encompass the other half of her life.

Hatter must have noticed her distress, for he rose from his seat and came to sit down beside her. He slowly extended his arm out so his hand could lightly grasp her shoulder. "What are you afraid of?" he inquired gently.

Alice was taken aback by the question. She was not afraid of telling him the truth. Or was she? She had never told her story to anyone. She was not one of the Slayers who had immediately brought their families into the supernatural fold. Anyone who was not already part of the Slayer circle did not know about her supernatural life. The girl had never even given thought to how she would approach this conversation with Jack should they ever reach that point in their relationship. That event had been placed so far ahead in time it had not even registered as a priority in her mind.

"I've just never told anyone this," she admitted. "Not my mom. Not Jack." She drew her gaze up to him. "Honestly, I don't even know where to begin. I really wasn't kidding when I said it was a long, complicated story."

Hatter nodded in understanding. His eyes glimmered with compassion. "Look, if you really don't want to tell me...I mean, if it makes you that uncomfortable..." He had stopped midsentence because Alice had placed a finger on his lips to silence him while shaking her head.

"No," she said firmly. "I promised you I would tell you the truth. I keep my promises."

She withdrew her finger, trying to ignore the fact that his lips were incredibly smooth and moist. Drawing in another deep breath to steady herself, Alice bluntly announced, "I'm a Vampire Slayer." She withheld her breath as she watched Hatter's reaction to her confession.

The young man's brow knit together with blatant incomprehension. "You're a _what _Slayer?" he asked, the emphasis not due to disbelief, but to outright mystification.

Alice was initially shocked by this reaction. It was only then she recalled that the thought that vampires may be an unknown entity to the people of Wonderland had crossed her mind once before, but that had been before she had made the decision to confess the truth to her companion. She truly had no idea how much overlap there was between Wonderland and her world. There were many things which appeared to be similar, but there were also many things which were completely foreign to her. Also, Hatter had appeared to be so blasé about the presence of magic and strange creatures like the jabberwock, not to mention that freak of a Suit with a rabbit's head.

"You don't know what vampires are?" she asked, failing to keep the note of surprise from her voice.

Hatter shook his head. "No, but I'd wager they're none too pleasant if you have to..." he cleared his throat as if the very words were distasteful, before finally saying, "slay them." His discontent led her to believe that, while he may not know what vampires were, he was intuitive enough to ascertain that they were dangerous creatures.

"Wow," Alice remarked, shaking her head. "I mean, back in my world, just about everyone _knows_ what they are. Most people just don't believe they're real."

Hatter smiled humorlessly. "Well, that's not a surprise. People from your world don't believe in a lot of things that are real, it seems," he pointed out sardonically. She knew he was referring to himself and all of Wonderland, which was nothing more than a fictional tale in her world.

"Well, I guess I'll just start from the beginning then," she said uncertainly. _Damn, where's a Watcher when you need one? _

"I'm not too clear on some details, but I know that my world started out as a hell dimension. It was ruled by demons. Now, save for a few exceptions, demons are what we call evil supernatural beings that come in all shapes and sizes and, as a bonus, get to be as intelligent, if not more so, than humans. Mortals like me started popping up after a while and started to, well, crowd out the demons. I suppose we were a bit too prolific for even their superior strength and powers to handle. They started to leave for other dimensions which were free of humans." Alice paused to gauge his reaction to the story. When it had been told to her about six years ago, it had taken a long time for her to completely make sense of it. She had never had to tell someone about the history and legacy of the Slayers, which could basically compile a book thicker than the Bible. Truth be told, she did not feel as if she were the most qualified person to be explaining the legacy of her vocation to Hatter. Of course, there was no one else who could possibly tell her story here in Wonderland. She would have to give it her best shot, then.

Her companion appeared to absorb the information far more smoothly than she had all those years ago. He inclined his head forward as a cue that she could continue her story.

Clearing her throat, she jumped back into her narrative. "Before one of the demons left, it decided to leave mankind a farewell gift, if you want to call it that. It took a human and mixed its own essence with the human's, creating a demon-human hybrid. This act killed the human, but he rose from the dead a few days later with a terribly deformed face, yellow eyes, very sharp teeth, and a very ravenous appetite. He was the first vampire and his appetite was for human blood. He fed on others, sometimes killing them, and sometimes turning them into vampires like him. And then, just like that, vampires started making the humans an endangered species."

Hatter's eyes grew large. She saw him gulp and purse his lips, but he remained silent.

At his gesture, Alice drew in a deep breath and continued. "You see, a vampire is many times stronger and faster than a human. They also have heightened senses: better smell, better vision, and better hearing. To top it off, they are almost indestructible and they heal pretty fast. You could cut a vampire to ribbons with a sword or stab it however many times you wanted and it would only annoy it. The only thing that kept the human race surviving under the onslaught as long as it did was that vampires cannot go into the sunlight."

"Why not?" Hatter asked. His face had gone incredibly pale at her description of the supernatural foe which she had been handpicked along with several hundred others to battle.

"They burn to ashes within about thirty seconds," she replied matter-of-factly. "And that's how I know that Dodo was lying about not seeing the sun in three years. Trust me, he'd be a lot pastier than that."

Hatter laughed heartily at that remark in spite of the sinister story Alice was telling.

"Anyway, there are a few methods to killing vampires. There's sunlight, which they tend to avoid so that one is unlikely to get the job done. There's also fire, but they can usually escape due to being so strong and fast. Then there are the more direct methods. Cutting off the head or staking it through the heart with a _wooden_ object will definitely kill a vampire. The only problem is most humans are not strong enough or fast enough to stand against a vampire. Some people may have a chance against a newborn vampire, which we typically refer to as fledglings. But up against a vampire who's got years of experience under its belt and a human will be drained and ripped to pieces before he can even draw his weapon." She decided to skip over how vampires could also be repelled or, in some cases, killed through the use of holy relics like crucifixes or holy water. Her retelling was probably butchering the Slayer legacy enough as it was. She did not even want to try to explain the intricacies of her world's religions.

At Hatter's grimace of shocked horror, she smiled grimly. "Yeah, _none too pleasant_ is not exactly how I would describe those things." She shuddered at the memory of those Turok-Han vampires and how they had killed so many of her comrades in that epic last stand at the Sunnydale hellmouth.

The light of the dancing flames of the fire cast Alice's grim visage into moving shadows. She swallowed her trepidation and, with a brief glance at Hatter, went on with the story while staring at the fire. "Well, about thirty-thousand or so years ago in my world, these shamans, which are a bunch of men who definitely don't just _dabble_ in the black arts, decided to come up with a solution to the problem. They somehow managed to harness the power of the demons of old and then they took a young girl from their village, chained her up, and forced the demon power into her."

"Why would they do that?" Hatter sputtered in disbelief. "Wouldn't that make her a vampire, too?"

Alice shook her head. "It didn't. She was still basically mortal and human, but the power of the demon made her something more. It gave her unimaginable physical strength, unparalleled speed and stamina, enhanced senses, and an accelerated rate of healing."

She stopped speaking as she saw the revelation dawn upon her companion. His chocolate eyes asked the question his mouth could not appear to form. She answered it with a solemn nod. "Yes. The power gave her the strength to stand against the vampires and other inhuman forces of evil that would threaten mankind. She was the first Vampire Slayer."

Hatter released a hissing breath through his gritted teeth, taking off his hat and nervously running his fingers along the brim for a few minutes in anxious silence before posing some sensible questions. "Wait a minute. Was she the only one they created? Because if that's true, then how is it that you have the power, too? Are you a descendant of hers, or something?"

"No, I doubt that. She probably didn't survive long enough to bear children," Alice answered. "And, as far as we know, she was the only one they created. But, they shaped the magic in such a way that when she died, the power would be passed on to a successor. The power of the Slayer acts with a will of its own, for the most part. It always fell upon a teenage girl; the Chosen One, she would be called. That's how it went on for thousands of years. One Slayer died and another was Called to take her place."

Hatter was silent for a long moment, keeping his head cast downward. When he did speak, his voice was tremulous. "I don't suppose there's a lot of time in between being Called and being killed, is there?" Then he looked up at her. She shivered at the look in his eyes which he sought to hide. There was despair in his gaze.

Alice sighed deeply. "Well, yes, it used to be that Slayers did not normally survive past the first year. There are very few on record that made it into their twenties and none are known to have ever made it to thirty."

"Used to be?" Hatter repeated, confusion edging out the despair.

She nodded. "Yeah, um, in recent times there have been some changes made to the rules. You see, it was found that, in every generation there were a number of girls who were Potential Slayers, meaning that when the reigning Slayer did die, any one of them could have been given the power. About six years ago, there were some things going on that, let's just say, created a major need for more than one Slayer. This entity called the First Evil had decided to wage a war for supremacy and its army was composed of the ultimate worst kind of vampires. The technical term for them is _Turok__-Han, _but we affectionately called them _Uber__-vamps_ because they made the regular vampires look like meek kittens."

"I was fifteen years old when I found out what I was," she told Hatter quietly. "I was a Potential Slayer and I was a target. The First Evil wanted to destroy the Slayer line so it could eliminate all future obstacles to its plans. So it sent its minions out into the world, seeking out girls like me who might one day become the Slayer, and killing them. They succeeded in a lot of cases. I think there were close to a thousand of us at one time, but then the numbers dwindled down to a few hundred."

"They came after you," Hatter remarked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, they did," Alice replied bitterly. She tried to mentally shut out the images which arose from her memory. It was not a day she cared to relive. "It was the first time I ever had to fight for my life. I was lucky though. I had been doing karate, which is a type of defensive fighting style, along with other types of martial arts since I was a kid. I managed to fight them off and escape. I didn't kill them, though it probably would have been better if I had. My skills were based on defense, not offense, but they saved my life that day."

Alice had been stretching the truth somewhat when she had told Jack and her mother that the only date she was meticulous about was the date her father had disappeared. There was another date clearly stamped on her memory as well. _January 28, 2003._ That was the day the servants of the First had found her walking home from karate class. Were it not for the skills in martial arts which she had honed since she had been in elementary school, she would likely not be here talking to Hatter. Instead, she would have been six feet under the ground with a slab of stone marking her sad, short existence on Earth.

Hatter sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He was still holding onto his porkpie hat, his fingers curling around the brim and gripping it tightly as if it could stave off the blow of these shocking revelations. It was strange seeing his head so unadorned. One could definitely tell he did not often remove his hat, as his hair was flattened down on the top with the ends curling up to accommodate the shape of the brim. Alice had never once seen Jack with a hair out of place even after spending the night with him. She found Hatter's messy, spiky hair rather dashing and refreshing. It suited him.

It took her a few moments to realize she had lost herself in the sheer pleasure of just studying Hatter. He glanced up at her, no doubt wondering why she had gone silent, his gaze questioning. She flushed and looked away, emitting a fake cough.

Covering her embarrassment, she picked up the thread of her story. "Well, ah, a few days later, this man showed up at my house while my mother was at work, so I was all by myself. He was a Watcher. Watchers are people who train and guide the Slayer and he happened to be the Watcher of the reigning Slayer at the time; a girl by the name of Buffy Summers. He told me everything. I learned that though I may have escaped the First once, I was still in danger and, by extension, so was my mother. Its servants could still find me and finish the job." She tiredly rubbed at her forehead before going on. "He offered me the protection of the Slayer herself. The only catch was I would have to go with him to a place called Sunnydale, California where she lived. That was not only way across the country from me, but it was also on top of what we call a hellmouth."

"Do I even want to know what that is?" Hatter inquired hesitantly.

Alice laughed dryly. "Oh, it turns out that I lived on a hellmouth, too. But the one where I live is not as big or potent as the one in Sunnydale was. It's basically an epicenter of bad shit. Demons, vampires, and just about any type of evil creature congregate there. The walls between the different worlds tend to be a lot flimsier there, too."

"Damn, Alice," Hatter swore, shaking his head.

With a shrug, she said, "Hey, I warned you. I told you it was a long, complicated story that you may not even understand most of. So sure you want to leave Wonderland, now? Because where I come from is the real fire. _This_ is a frying pan to me."

He managed to give her a small smile at that while securing his hat back to his head. "But not everywhere is full of these vampires and demons, right?"

"No," she replied lightly. "If you do still want to come back with me, you're welcome to. I'll definitely find you a much safer, nicer place to live."

Hatter glanced away from her. "Um, yeah," he mumbled. For some reason, he did not appear to be too enthused by her assurance.

That sense of awkwardness rose up between them and, in an effort to stifle it, she decided to finish her lengthy story. Both of them would have to get at least a few hours of sleep anyway.

"Well, so I decided to go to Sunnydale, even though I knew my mother was going to freak out. I left her a long letter and I made sure to keep sending her letters and stuff to let her know I was all right. I didn't tell her the full truth, though. I knew she would only think I'd gone crazy or something and it just didn't seem like there was enough time to try to explain it all anyway. There was definite hell to pay when I got back. I can't even begin to tell you how long I was grounded," she recollected, chuckling slightly. "Also, since I missed out on a whole half of the school year I ended up having to repeat the year. That really sucked."

Hatter held up a hand to interrupt her. "Wait, so you did leave? What happened in Sunnydale? How long were you there?"

Alice smiled at his cascade of questions. "I had to leave, Hatter. I wanted to keep my mother safe even though I knew I was gonna be in some serious trouble for it. Also, there was a part of me that wanted to go join the fight, you know. It felt like the right thing to do," she explained. "While I was there, I trained under the Slayer and I sometimes helped her to train others since I already had a solid foundation in martial arts. I was there for about three and a half months, I guess. We spent that time building up our forces and information, trying to map out a battle plan and stuff. It ended up coming down to us going down into the hellmouth and taking our last stand against the First and its army. The only issue we had to resolve was that, even as well-trained as some of us Potentials were, we were still no match against Uber-vamps. All the training in the world could not compensate for the raw power and strength of a Slayer."

"So, what did you do?" Hatter queried.

"I didn't do anything. One of Buffy's best friends happened to be a very powerful witch. She used this artifact to perform a spell that would unleash the power of the Slayer in all Potentials. So, in just a few seconds, she changed the nature of an enchantment which had been in place for thousands of years," Alice informed him gravely. Speaking of it made her recall the rush of power she had felt, as if a sleeping giant had just woken up within her blood. It had been the most intoxicating experience of her young life.

Her companion whistled in appreciation. "That must have taken a lot of power."

Alice glanced up at the sky, noting how far the crescent moon had traveled across it. Spending so long hunting nocturnal creatures had made her intimately familiar with the patterns of the night, including discerning how much night was left. She judged that the night was probably already half-way gone.

"Well, to end this long story, we kicked the First's proverbial ass though we did lose some girls in the battle. Sunnydale disappeared into a sinkhole. Then Buffy and her crew went around the world finding all the girls who had become Slayers that managed to escape the notice of the First. Cleveland, which is the city I live in, became a fully-staffed hellmouth base and I currently work there as an active duty Slayer. I also help train new Slayers," she said while stretching out her cramped back.

"Oh, and then one day I met Jack and some months later I chased down some men who kidnapped him and I ended up here. The end," she added wryly.

A long period of intense silence followed as Alice allowed the story to sink into Hatter's grasp. Finally he let out a whoosh of air. "Well, that was...wow. I don't even know what to say to all that." He scratched the back of his neck and rose from his seat.

"I didn't overload you too much, did I? I know it's a lot to take in all at once," she commented with concern, watching him pace to the other side of the campfire and back.

"No," Hatter assured her, giving a half-hearted smile. "I am glad you told me. It's just..." he trailed off, his expression darkening.

"Just what?" Alice asked, frowning at his agitation.

Hatter looked up at her, his face impossible to read with the light from the fire throwing an interplay of shadows on his face. He looked like he was about to say something, but then he merely shook his head and sighed. "Well, you being this Slayer certainly explains a thing or two," he remarked with a somewhat caustic tone to his voice. "That insufferable reckless streak of yours makes a lot more sense."

That had not been what he really wanted to say, Alice could tell. The set of his shoulders and his extremely anxious pacing were shrill signs of inner turmoil. She curled her fingers and looked down at her lap, trying to decide if it was worth trying to goad him into voicing what was vexing him. It was getting quite late by now and she had been staving off the feelings of exhaustion for a long time. If she was beginning to feel lassitude creep into her bones, she could only imagine how tired Hatter must be.

"It's still very dangerous, isn't it?" he finally ventured. He was staring at the fire with one hand on his hip.

Alice was not sure how to approach that loaded question, but she felt it would have to be handled delicately. She did not want to sugar-coat the truth. Nonetheless, she did not want to cause him unwarranted concern. "Well, it's not as bad as it used to be. I mean, no Slayer ever has to fight alone. And we don't allow any new Slayers to hunt by themselves until they've been out patrolling under the supervision of an experienced Slayer for at least six months. So, now Slayers can expect to live about as long as the average person."

Hatter nodded, his bottom lip ballooning out as he ran his tongue along his bottom teeth. "You never told your boyfriend about this?" he inquired, a strange, indefinable tone to his voice.

She frowned at the question. Her first thought was to tell him to mind his own business about how she handled her romantic relationships. But Hatter had lost everything because he was helping her try to save her boyfriend. He did not deserve so harsh a response. "We'd only been together for about three months," Alice explained, spreading her hands out helplessly. "You don't just drop a bombshell like that right from the get-go. Remember what I said about people from my world not believing vampires and demons actually exist? I mean, I was planning on telling him eventually. But..."

Alice could not bring herself to finish the real reason she was holding back from telling Jack about her secret life. The truth was, a big part of her did not believe the relationship would last long enough to warrant bringing Jack into the fold. She may have told her mother that her boyfriend was different from all the men who had come before, but a large part of the girl did not really believe her own words. Old habits were hard to kill. However, she did not want to get embroiled in a discussion about her commitment issues, especially with a double agent teashop owner.

"But what? You don't think he'd be able to handle it?" Hatter asked in what appeared to be an oddly challenging voice. "If I were him, I'd want to know." He resumed pacing again, mumbling to himself so quickly that even her sharp Slayer hearing could not determine the words.

"Look," Alice said tiredly. "Can we not talk about that right now? I need to rescue him first, anyway. Once we get back home I'll probably have to tell him the truth. He'll probably have a lot of questions once this is over, anyway." As she spoke, she leaned forward to toss one of the borogove bones she had stripped clean of meat on the fire, throwing sizzling sparks into the air.

"Yeah," was Hatter's despondent reply. He had halted his pacing and was now staring over at her from across the fire.

"So, any ideas on how we're gonna cut a deal with the White Rabbit or am I just going to have to be _extra_ persuasive?" she inquired, smiling deviously.

Hatter's mouth twitched with slight amusement. "I did tell you it was a long shot. But, as long as you have that ring, you've got a chance," he assured her.

At first Alice felt the genuine warmth of relief after hearing that. But then her sleepy mind caught up to her and she realized something had not been right with the way he had worded his response. He had specifically said _you_ instead of _we_. She felt her stomach convulse and tighten forebodingly. Had her confession frightened him away from coming back with her?

"What happened to we?" Alice queried, failing to keep the disappointment from her voice.

This must have been what had made him so jittery. He glanced away from her penetrating gaze, pursing his lips and rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. "I can't leave, Alice," he finally admitted, his eyes latching onto hers beseechingly. "Wonderland is my home. I can't just abandon it despite what I said. I have to stay and fight for it."

Hatter slowly ambled back across the circle and reclaimed his seat next to her on the log.

"What made you change your mind?" Alice felt she already knew the answer to this question, but needed to hear it just the same. She had spooked him away from coming back to her world. The picture she had painted for him had not been an attractive one.

Hatter waved his arms around the area, rising once more and crossing over to stand before her. "Seeing all this...this great kingdom. What it used to be and what's become of it. Old Charlie, wherever the hell he's gotten off to. I thought all of this was totally wiped out of existence. Seeing that part of it's still here and that, maybe, one day it could be brought back is just...well, it woke up a hope I thought I never even had to begin with. And if it does this for _me_ then think of what it would mean to the rest of my people," he declared, his eyes shining brightly.

He stopped for a moment and drew in a deep breath. "This is a wake-up call, Alice. All those hundreds of refugees hiding underground, they're all counting on me. I can't fail them now."

Whatever unkindly assumptions she had made about Hatter's character before were completely vaporized. Alice could not help but feel a wave of admiration and humbleness wash over her as she listened to his proclamation. He was being completely honest, too. There was no subtle hint that he was lying about his reasons for wanting to remain in Wonderland. It definitely made her feel guilty she had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had decided her home world sounded too perilous.

"I understand," Alice told him, forcing a supportive smile onto her face. For some reason, she felt her heart was starting to crack like glass.

Then she frowned when she recalled Dodo's deadly threat. "Wait a minute. Are you sure that's a good idea, Hatter? I seem to remember you saying yourself you were a target for both sides. The Suits and the Resistance have a price on your head," she reminded him seriously.

Hatter cocked his head to the side in grim acknowledgement. "That's true, but I'm thinking if I..." his eyes flashed nervously before he reluctantly continued speaking. "If I turn up with the ring, Dodo might be willing to forgive me."

Alice felt her muscles coil up in warning. "What do you mean? I thought I was using the ring to cut a deal with the White Rabbit."

Hatter held up his hands as if he were trying to fend off an attack. "Don't worry. I'm going to get you home safe and sound first," he said.

Her breath hissed as she realized there was a factor missing from this equation. She worked through the anger building within her by pulling the velvet jacket back on. When she felt calm enough to speak, she finally asked curtly, "And what about Jack?"

Hatter sighed in acute frustration, throwing his hands up in the air as if he had known this was coming. He walked back across to the other side of the campfire, presumably so he could be a safer distance from her. "Alice, I know you don't want to hear this and I'm sorry, but you have to let him go. You have to forget about Jack. You'll never get him out of the casino alive and trying will only set off alarm bells. It'll make your escape impossible." His gaze begged her forgiveness and understanding, but his tone was implacable.

Alice swallowed the bile rising in her throat. "Were you not just listening to me earlier? You know I'm not some helpless little girl, Hatter," she pointed out defiantly, rising to her own feet.

"I know you aren't. Believe me, I know that," Hatter placated. "But you don't seem to understand that you would be outnumbered thousands to one. And I know you think you can negotiate with the queen, but you can't, Alice. She's not a person to be negotiated with."

She clenched her fists and kicked a wayward stick into the fire, watching the sparks fly outwards. "No," she asserted, shaking her head. "_You_ don't understand. I cannot and will not leave him here. It's my fault he's here in the first place."

Hatter scoffed at that. "Do you really believe that? It's not your fault he got caught by the White Rabbit. These things happen. You can't blame yourself," he said softly.

Alice swallowed again and drew in another deep breath to rein in her temper. "So, what, you were just leading me on back there? I thought it was understood that when I was leaving this place, Jack would be coming with me."

Hatter took a few steps toward her, but then decided better of it and retracted. "Just believe me, please. It'll be suicide," he pleaded in an agonized voice.

Alice turned away from Hatter, not wanting him to see the tears of hurt and frustration welling up in her eyes. Logically, she understood he was doing this out of concern for her. He did not know Jack and, hence, he did not really care about what happened to him. She could tell that he loathed causing her such distress, but he was adamant in his determination to keep her out of harm's way. The knowledge of that did assuage her anger towards him somewhat, but it could not abolish it completely. She could not make him see that saving Jack was more than just about saving the man who was her boyfriend. To her, it was also about duty and redemption. She felt like she would be betraying her Calling if she were to abandon Jack to his fate in Wonderland.

"Jack's a lucky guy," she heard Hatter murmur from across the camp circle.

She froze upon hearing that, wondering if she had imagined it or simply had misheard what her companion had uttered under his breath. Either way, she suspected he had not meant for her to hear it. Her ultra sensitive hearing must have slipped his mind.

"What?" she tentatively asked, turning back around to face him.

Hatter shook his head despairingly. "Nothing," he muttered. "Anyway, it's late and I think we could both use some rest. Looks like it'll only be a few hours till sunup anyway and I don't think we should be here for much longer."

She nodded mutely while pinching the bridge of her nose.

Hatter walked towards her, a doleful expression on his weary face. "We can argue about this some more later, yeah?"

He reached out and gave her a timid squeeze on her shoulder before pulling off his hat and walking in the direction towards the little barn. Alice stood alone in the camp circle, staring into the fire for an interminable amount of time before she, too, decided to retire.

* * *

I apologize for there not being two chapters, but I did imply that a second submission before my trip would be unlikely. I've been terribly busy this past week with working, shopping and preparing for my trip. Hence, I haven't had much time to write. I'll hopefully be more on the ball after this much-needed vacation!

Oh, and in case some could not tell, I took some artistic liberties with the Slayer legacy, but most of it is true to canon.

Feedback is lovely, thanks!


	11. Fickle Felines & Demented Rabbits

I have returned! I had loads of fun at the beach with my boy and now I'm back to get down to business. It was such a shame one particular character had such an abysmally short, if barely there, role in the miniseries. He was always my favorite in the book. Cheers!

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**Chapter X: **Fickle Felines and Demented Rabbits

As exhausted as Alice was, she found sleep to be elusive as she lay underneath the tattered coverlet upon the surprisingly comfortable bed in the barn. The girl had built back up the fire before retiring to the bed, and the flickering light played upon the walls and ceiling. She switched from side to side, curling her legs up into the fetal position or stretching them out. Nothing seemed to help urge the sweet release of unconsciousness. Sighing in frustration, she sat up and rubbed at her eyes. It was pointless to continue lying there willing sleep to come.

Charlie was snoring away in his hammock, occasionally singing to himself in his sleep in a way that made Alice smile and shake her head. She had no idea why he had not returned to the campsite after doing whatever it was he had left them to do. Perhaps he had heard the serious conversation taking place between herself and Hatter and decided he did not want to interrupt. The girl felt kind of guilty for making him feel excluded after he had gone to the trouble to provide them safe haven and food. Then she wondered how much of it he had heard and gleaned. Did he know she was a supernatural warrior? She wondered what the old knight would make of such a revelation.

Her thoughts then turned to Hatter as she recalled seeing him settle up against the gate outside the entrance to the little shelter she was in. It was almost as if he had perched himself there to guard her over the night. Of course, he had only done that so she could have the superior comfort of the bed. It was a very sweet gesture, but the bed was not going to do her any good tonight. There were far too many troubling things on her mind. They were the culprits keeping sleep at bay.

Alice needed to get Jack out of that casino, and it needed to be done soon. Time was probably running out for her boyfriend. And while Hatter had told her they could discuss it later, she knew his mind was all but settled on the matter. Jack was not important. He was an expendable element in Hatter's opinion. The young Slayer could not blame her friend for thinking that. But Jack was not expendable to her. If Hatter was not going to help her rescue her boyfriend, then she was going to have to make a difficult decision. She would have to take matters into her own hands.

The only problem was she had no idea how to get to the casino. There were no handy maps of Wonderland lying around, unfortunately. If she struck out on her own with no sense of direction in mind, the girl would probably only achieve getting herself lost in the woods, unable to help anyone. There was only one conceivable solution to the problem, and the thought of it made her cringe. The quickest way she could think of to finding the casino would be to allow herself to be captured by the Suits on their trail. They would drag her back there to be brought before the queen, and it was there she would have to try to play her hand at using the ring as a bargaining chip.

Alice silently rose from the bed and pulled her boots on. Years of tracking and hunting the undead had made it easy for her to slip soundlessly about. She crept past the entrance, pausing to glance down at Hatter who was miraculously sleeping while propped up against the crude wooden gate. Her stomach twisted anxiously as she looked upon him, making her eyes tear up unexpectedly. His hat rested on his bent knee, leaving his unruly dark brown hair to spring free. The position he was in looked terribly uncomfortable, but the teashop owner/Resistance fighter seemed to be able to make it work nonetheless. He breathed the deep breaths only those caught up in a deep sleep could achieve.

_This is wrong. You can't just leave him like this_, a small voice inside implored her. She tried to ignore it. The girl did wish she could leave some kind of a note, but she did not know if Charlie kept any sort of writing supplies and, if he did, she did not want to wake the old knight to ask him.

Time was ticking by, but Alice could not tear herself away from Hatter's side. She studied his face, trying to burn the image into her memory. The notion that this may be the last time she ever saw him made her heart thud in anguish against her ribcage. It made her want to abandon her plan altogether, and that was unthinkable. Jack needed her more than Hatter did. In fact, all that Hatter had gotten for her company was trouble and death threats. Everything he had was hanging on by a slim thread all because of her, and he had not once blamed her for it. All he was trying to do was keep her safe and get her home. Her leaving was probably doing him a favor, though it might take him a while to figure it out.

_I'm sorry, Hatter. I really am. But this is the only way. Please forgive me,_ she wanted to say aloud, but, for fear of waking him, she remained silent.

Alice glared down at the ring on her finger, focusing all her resentment and anger on the thing. For an inanimate object, it had certainly caused her a lot of grief. She wished she had never laid eyes on it. A horrifying thought struck her then. If she kept the ring and actually did use it to negotiate the release of Jack, she would be throwing the Resistance's chances at victory down the rabbit hole, so to speak. The images of all those hungry, sickly refugees rose up in her mind as well as Hatter's noble words from earlier. Also, Hatter needed the ring to convince Dodo to call off his threats. If she took it, she would seal his fate and that of his people. Aside from her burgeoning feelings for the man, Hatter had done so much for her already at the risk of his own life and livelihood. Taking the ring for her own selfish reasons was definitely no way to show her appreciation and gratitude. On the other hand, without the ring, she and Jack would not be able to get home. The Looking Glass would not be able to operate without it.

But was Jack's life worth more than all the lives of those refugees? Worth more than Hatter's life? The fact that she did not know the answer to the second question made her stomach flip over. Jack was her boyfriend, and while she may not _love_ him yet, she should certainly hold him in higher regard than Hatter...right? Alice did not know what she thought or felt on that subject anymore. Her feelings were a jumbled mélange of confusion. That alone was yet another reason it was probably better she and Hatter went their separate ways.

She slid the ring off her finger and held it up into the moonlight, shaking her head in wonderment that so much hinged on whoever had possession of such a small, seemingly innocuous piece of jewelry.

Meanwhile, Hatter made a soft sound in his sleep and shifted his position slightly. His eyelids fluttered as if they were about to open, causing Alice to freeze in sudden terror that he would awaken and question her about what she was doing out of bed, staring at him like a creep. It took her a few seconds then to decipher what it was he had mumbled in his sleep. The sound he had made had been her name.

Alice's throat started to constrict and she swallowed, feeling a tear slip down her cheek. Hatter's dreamy utterance of her name tugged at her heart, making her stomach feel fluttery all over again. She looked away from him and wiped at her eyes. As she did so, the decision about what to do with the ring was made. She could not take the ring, no matter that it might spell disaster for her and Jack in the end. She would not jeopardize Hatter's chances or the Resistance's. If anything, she owed him that much.

"Goodbye," she whispered to Hatter, forcing herself to turn away from him.

Alice made her way to where the Red King's skeleton sat upon his ancient throne. She looked up into his grim, bony façade. The loss of tissue and hair had caused the crown to lay lopsided on the skull, which had sunken deep into the chainmail hood. The young Slayer stepped up onto the small dais the throne sat upon and stretched up to rectify the crown's position. After she straightened it she gently grasped one of the dead king's skeletal digits and deftly slid the ring onto it.

"There you go," she said softly. "It only took about 150 years, but it's back where it belongs."

Shrugging off the velvet coat, she left it hanging on the ladder nailed against the tree directly across from the barn. The sky was starting to lighten a little as the sun peaked over the horizon. A chorus of birds could already be heard as they hunted for worms, insects, and seeds to feed themselves and their hatchlings. The cool early morning air incited goose bumps on Alice's skin as she climbed up the path out of the camping enclosure. It would warm up soon enough as the sun rose higher, and she wanted to be well away from the campsite by then. She did not want to dawdle in her plan of clandestinely stealing away without Hatter and Charlie's notice.

Alice decided she would follow the path they had taken to the Kingdom of the Knights. Hopefully once she reached the area where they had met with the jabberwock, she would find the posse of Suits still trying to find their tracks. It was kind of absurd that she was hoping to find the enemy so she could give herself over to them, but it was the only way she could think of getting to the casino. If she did find them, there was no doubt they would question her about Hatter's whereabouts. She had already resolved that she would fight the entire lot of them and die before she would betray Hatter and Charlie's location.

Stopping next to a tree, the girl felt an ominous prickling sensation assault the back of her neck. Her fingers dug deep runnels into the bark of the tree as she felt the same presence from when she had been bathing. It had returned to watch her as she made her journey right into the hands of the enemy.

Though there was undeniably little time for a heart-to-heart with her invisible stalker, Alice could not help but shout out, "Will you just show yourself already? This is getting really annoying!"

A high-pitched, maniacal cackling filled the air around her. She twirled around as she tried in vain to pinpoint a location of the source of the laughter.

It was at this time that Alice was sorely regretting not having grabbed some weapons from Charlie's armory. Instead, she swallowed her trepidation and muttered, "Oh fuck this," before recommencing her trek. If all that thing wanted to do was laugh at her and spy upon her, she was just going to leave it to it. There were far more important things to be done.

"Going somewhere, my dear?" a sexless voice above her asked silkily.

The question caused the girl to halt in her tracks. She debated on whether or not she should look up, figuring the entity could just be throwing its voice simply to mess with her.

"Listen," she stated in a tone of extreme irritation. "I really don't have time for this shit."

The presence merely laughed at that. "You silly mortals always think you have a claim on Time. When it is Time who has a claim upon you, little Slayer."

Rolling her eyes, Alice finally looked up. Balancing on a branch above her was a fat purple cat with vivid blue stripes. Black slits were surrounded by bright blue-green irises and its mouth was impossibly wide and grinning, showing off its army of sharp white teeth. A bushy tail stretched out behind the animal, thumping against the surface of the branch.

It could be none other than the Cheshire Cat, one of the few characters from the story she still remembered well. The only issue was this Cheshire did not feel like a cat, or any type of animal, for that matter. The creature was more than likely some kind of a shape-shifter. It exuded an awesome amount of power, but there was no innate character of evil or good to it. It was neutral in that regard, but the fact that it kept watching her and taunting her did not lend it a benign label. As for the matter of it knowing about her being a Slayer, well, she could at least justify that with it having overheard her conversation with Hatter. If it had known about it beforehand, well, that was just too disturbing a road to go down at that particular moment.

"And so my life is complete; a talking cat," Alice remarked sardonically. Rather than listen to more of its nonsensical rambling, she pushed forward to continue her journey.

"Oh, pish, you're no fun," the creature crooned.

"No, I'm busy," she countered snippily as she walked ahead. However, Alice was forced to stop when the creature materialized in a cloud of purple smoke in front of her. It, quite literally, laughed its head off at what was probably a dumbfounded expression on her face. The disembodied head circled around the flustered young woman, laughing madly.

"What do you want?" she asked crossly. When she made a swipe at the head, her hand merely went through it and the thing disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

_Wonderful.__ If this thing is evil it'd be a pain in the ass to try to kill or subdue...almost impossible, really._ _I hope it's just annoying._

"What do _you_ want?" it asked, its head having magically re-attached to the rest of its body.

Alice huffed and gritted her teeth. "I want to be on my way in some kind of semblance of peace, thanks," she replied. She started walking again, this time just moving right through the floating cat.

The cat started floating alongside her this time. "Well," it stated in a pompous tone. "Didn't we get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

She ignored it and hopped over a particularly large, protruding tree root.

"I suppose you aren't even interested in the fact that you're going the wrong way," it suddenly pointed out in a sing-song voice.

That gave her pause, though she was doubtful as to whether or not she should trust the word of such a fickle being. Reining in her temper, she turned around to see it stretching out like real cats would on top of the tree root she had hopped over.

"What do you mean?" she asked, crossing her hands over her chest.

Incredibly, the Cheshire started grooming itself as if the answer to her question was of no importance. It lifted up its leg and she grimaced in disgust as it started to lick its own crotch. The young woman waited for a while until her patience ran out.

"Okay, seriously, you're not even a real cat. Why are you doing that?" Alice inquired briskly. "Also, if I'm going the wrong way, which way is the right way?" She was still unsure if this thing could be trusted, but she was at least willing to hear its answer. That was, if it ever got around to providing one.

"The servants of the Queen of Hearts are not back the way you came," it finally supplied.

A shudder ran up her spine. How had it known where she was going? She had not once mentioned a single part of her plan out loud. Why would she have? There was no one she could have told about it. Her annoyance started crossing over into the territory of dread. All Slayers had been taught the value of mental blocks, but she had never had to use them before. The girl struggled to remember how it was done, for she did not want anything seeing into her head without her permission.

"Trying to keep me out, eh?" the Cheshire remarked drolly. "You're a quick one, I'll give you that. A lot savvier than the other Alice. Then, she was only a child. Can't be blamed for her innocence and naïveté nor for not remembering me as I really was."

_So, the books got it wrong about him. How...unsurprising. _

"Don't you think it's odd?" the Cheshire asked.

Alice frowned in confusion. "What's odd? Everything's odd here, so maybe you should narrow it down for me."

It grinned, its immaculate white teeth shining lethally in the morning sunlight. "You being here, of course. What, did you think it was a coincidence? When you looked at that homeless man, you felt something. A part of you knew something was coming, didn't it? You felt the finger of fate brushing over you." Its eyes glowed ever brighter and it rose into the air, floating towards her. A feeling of impossible power washed over her. This thing was dangerous, but, at the same time, she did not feel it was exactly a threat.

"What are you?" she asked breathily.

It did not answer but just continued swirling around her, grinning hysterically. It then shifted its shape into that of a small flaxen-haired girl no more than seven or eight years old. Her golden locks were held back by a blue satin ribbon tied into a little bow. She was wearing a blue dress with a lacy white pinafore over top of it. Her legs were encased in solid white stockings with glossy black shoes encompassing her tiny feet. The little girl's face was exquisitely shaped, showing the nascent comeliness that would have one day bloomed into true beauty.

Alice needed no introduction to know what shape the Cheshire was taking on now. This was the Alice of Legend. A child maybe, but still a legend in this world. It was a surreal notion.

_How could a small child have brought down the whole house of cards?_

"You'd be surprised what the will and insight of a child can do," the little girl said sagely. Her eyes, a deep ocean blue, bore into Alice's own blue eyes. They flashed blue-green for a split second, as if to remind the young woman that it was not really a child who was speaking to her. "Things are never as they seem in this place, Alice Hamilton of Cleveland, Ohio. You, a Warrior of Light, are not here by coincidence, oh no. And I do believe, deep down, that you know it."

The images of those refugees from the Great Library flew through her mind. She remembered standing on the landing above, looking down at them with sorrow. All of their lives had been torn apart by this Queen of Hearts whom she had yet to meet. Then there were the numbers of people from her world, including Jack, trapped within the casino having something vital drained from them all at the behest of this tyrannical monarch. Who knew how many people's lives had been stolen through the machinations of that woman? Hundreds, perhaps even thousands had been abducted from her world and brought here. Though no one had told her what occurred to her people after they fulfilled their roles at the casino, she had a strong suspicion that they were not returned back to their homes. No, they were probably discarded like they were trash to be thrown into the bin.

"Why does the Queen of Hearts bring people from my world here? What does she want from us?" Alice questioned.

The little girl did not smile; a welcome change from the madly grinning feline. Her face took on a grim expression. "You know what it is, Alice. You have the pieces. Put them together."

Alice weakly shook her head, idly glancing around her. She was burning up precious time standing here talking with what she was beginning to suspect was some sort of forgotten deity. But, suddenly, it seemed crucial that she finally figure out what it was that made people from her world so special. Laying a hand on her forehead, she thought back to when she first arrived in Wonderland. She brought up the memory of walking into Hatter's shop, figuring that was probably an important part of figuring out the puzzle.

_There were words on the bottles and the board...they were the names of emotions! And when Hatter pulled out that bottle of pink liquid to give to the smelly slicker guy he said it was...What was it? Pure human excitement! Holy shit!_

"Emotions? She's after our emotions?" Alice exclaimed incredulously. "But, I don't understand. Why would the people here need our emotions?" She thought of Hatter then, not finding anything peculiar about his emotional expressions. He seemed to act like any typical guy from her world. Well, maybe he was not _exactly_ like a typical man from her world, but he never appeared to have any trouble _feeling_. But then she remembered what Charlie had told them when he first brought them to the Kingdom of the Knights.

_She only wanted to feel the good, not the bad._

It now made sense how the Queen of Hearts was controlling the people of Wonderland. If she kept them all doped up on positive emotions, never to realize what shambles their world was turning into, she would never have any dissent threatening her authority. She would never have to expend any effort on being sure her subjects had clean water, food, education, protection. All she had to do was use fabricated positive emotions to keep the populace content and blissfully ignorant. But that begged the question: why did it have to be emotions from people from her world?

"Your people are practically ruled by emotions," the little Alice-Cheshire informed her. "You may think you live by logic and rationale, but that is simply untrue. It's the reason you people live such short lives in comparison to the people of Wonderland. Emotions burn through the life force like a wildfire."

Alice raised an eyebrow. She pointed out in a voice dripping with skepticism, "But Wonderlanders can't be incapable of feeling good things on their own, right? I mean, Hatter seems to get along just fine."

The child who was not a child shrugged. "The people of Wonderland _are_ capable; it is just so much harder for them to feel deep emotion. Normally, some kind of catalyst is required. In your Hatter's case, a very special catalyst has stimulated true, pure emotions he has never really felt so intensely in his entire life." The being smiled knowingly as Alice picked apart that cryptic remark.

The young woman gestured to herself with a stunned expression on her face. "Me?" The implications of that truth were something her mind could not consider right now, not when she was trying to find a way to save her boyfriend.

The little girl's smile widened, her teeth morphing from normal child's teeth to the sharp incisors of the Cheshire. "You may go your way, Vampire Slayer. Your work is far from finished in this world." With that said, the child vanished. The eerie laughter of the Cheshire echoed faintly all around Alice.

_Crap_, Alice silently lamented.

"I don't suppose you were going to point me in the correct direction, were you? Or, better yet, you could just teleport me to the casino or something," she called out, cupping her palms around her mouth. The Cheshire may not have been malicious, but it definitely was capricious. She did not know if she could expect any response or not.

The young Slayer did receive a response, however. A little mew sounded over to her left, and when she turned towards it, her eyes widened in shock at what she saw. Standing not three feet away from her was a little long-haired cat with brown, black, and gray stripes and white fur tipping the end of its bushy tail. It was a cat Alice recognized very well, and she felt her heart swell with nostalgia.

"Dinah?" Alice breathed incredulously.

The cat meowed again, strolling towards Alice to rub up against her legs. Its loud purring brought tears to the girl's eyes. The rational side of her mind reminded her that it was not her beloved pet rubbing and purring up against her legs. Dinah had been run over by a car when Alice had been ten years old. It had been one of the most devastating incidents in the young woman's life. In fact, there really was only one other incident to eclipse the desolation she had felt over losing her cherished cat, and that one had occurred not very long afterwards. There was no way her dead cat had suddenly come back to life in Wonderland. It was just a ploy of the Cheshire; something to twist at her heart and emotions. But, oh, there was such a large part of her that wanted to scoop the animal up in her arms and smother its head with kisses.

Dinah, or, rather, the Dinah-imposter, loped away from Alice, then. It trotted off past a few trees, stopped, and then turned to meow impatiently at her. The young Slayer gleaned the message quickly. She was to follow the cat.

The cat led her up a steep slope slickened by dew-covered leaf litter and grass. Alice traversed the hill easily enough, though she did wish several times on the way up that she had rethought her footwear for that dinner date with Jack which seemed a lifetime ago. Then again, it was probably a spot of luck she had chosen the purple boots. She could have worn her pumps or, God help her, stilettos. And then where would she be? More than likely she would be running around barefoot, as she imagined she would have broken both of those types of shoes by now.

The morning sun rose higher into the sky as the girl followed the cat through the forest. The trees eventually thinned out until she emerged from the forest completely. The landscape had given way to scrub brush more suited to a desert environment than the temperate area she had just left. An open field of thorny bushes stretched out in front of her, rolling slightly as the elevation rose at certain points ahead. She could feel the heat of the sun more acutely here and there was a definite arid quality to the air.

_That's Wonderland for you. Two completely separate biomes smashed right up next to each other. _

Alice felt the presence of others long before they materialized into view, surrounding her completely with their weapons drawn. The Slayer held her hands up in the sign of surrender, the sun illuminating the green mark etched into her forearm. Showcasing the insignia so blatantly would assure there was no mistaking who and what she was.

There were about fifteen total regular Suits, with the requisite gray spade emblems upon their jackets. One dusky-faced man wore a black bowler hat and a plain black suit with a large silver medallion hanging from his neck in the shape of a club. His face was smooth and unlined save for the dark, triangular beard descending from his chin. She recognized him as the man the ratcatcher had been speaking to back at Hatter's shop. He was not smiling as he approached Alice, but she could feel a sense of grim satisfaction mingled with relief emanating from him.

Then there was the rabbit-head Suit, the one who had senselessly murdered that old man at the shop. Her entire being recoiled in a mixture of fear and revulsion as this Suit came towards her. He may not have been able to form a smile on his vacant ceramic face, but there was a sense of malevolent glee just the same. If he could smile, his face would be sporting a wide, demented grin. The thing was positively relishing this moment.

"Hello, Alice," he greeted with his jarring robotic voice. He clasped his human hands together in front of him, cracking his knuckles. "You look like you could use a little company."

Nauseous dread gripped her gut relentlessly. There was something inherently wrong and unnatural about this Suit, and it was wreaking havoc on her delicate senses. He reeked of death, pain, and madness. Her internal warning system was sounding off alarm bells, registering this creature as a serious threat. Whatever this Suit was, he was extremely dangerous, even to her. She capped the well of panic that started to arise and forced it deep down under her control. It would not do to have this _thing_ realize she was afraid of it. It was not so much her personal well-being she feared for (though that was part of it). She was more afraid of how this new, unexpected threat would affect her chances of rescuing Jack.

"Where's Hatter?" the rabbit-head Suit asked.

The query caused Alice to tense up. It was not that the question had been unforeseen, for Hatter had given his aid to an escaped oyster. There was no doubt the queen would want him to answer for that. The way the thing said her friend's name, even in his tinny, inhuman voice, betrayed a deep-seated, deadly hatred. The Suit was not asking after Hatter's whereabouts merely under orders from the queen. He was asking for his own personal reasons. She felt a fierce protectiveness rise up.

_He and Hatter know each other...or did at one point. And I think Hatter must have done something to really piss him off. _

The girl shook her head and replied boldly, "He's not here. I came alone." The words she uttered silently were: _And you'll have to kill me before I ever tell you where he is._

The Suit twitched, no doubt displeased with her answer. The man in the bowler hat must have noticed because he immediately stepped in between the rabbit-head Suit and Alice. With his back turned to Alice, she heard the man say in a commanding tone, "The queen ordered that the oyster be brought to her alive and unharmed, Mad March. You would do well to follow Her Majesty's wishes. The teashop owner is unimportant."

Though the man was one of her soon-to-be captors, Alice felt a rush of gratitude towards him.

When he turned to her, his coal black eyes assessed her dispassionately. He jerked his head towards the men surrounding them. "Grab her arms." To Alice he said crisply, "If you come quietly without a struggle, we won't tie you up."

She gave a little nod to show that she understood and would not put up a fight. The instinct to throw off the men who tightly gripped her small arms between them was difficult to suppress. This had been her plan all along, had it not? She had fully intended to be captured and taken to the casino. But planning it was something entirely different from experiencing it.

Handguns were trained on her as the man in the bowler hat pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket and dialed. "We have the oyster. Requesting transport immediately," he reported.

A few minutes passed before the whirring noise hit the air and a Scarab came into view. It beat up a wind during its descent, blowing Alice's long dark hair all around her face as it lowered to the ground. Doors slid open on the front of the craft and a ramp descended to the ground. She could feel Mad March's eyeless gaze upon her. He seemed to be waiting for her to make any kind of move; hoping for it, in fact. Alice maintained her composure, however, as the Suits flanking her started pushing her forward up onto the ramp. The young Slayer held her head up high as she was brought on board of the Scarab.

This apparatus would bring her to the place where, if luck was on her side, she could rescue her boyfriend. There was no going back now.

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Thank you all so much for your patience during this brief hiatus. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I look forward to hearing your thoughts!


	12. Mad Protective Impulses

Hello all! Thanks to my reviewers from last chapter and I wanted to take a moment to urge any of my silent readers to provide some feedback as well! It would be greatly appreciated! And now, on with the story!

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**Chapter XI: **Mad Protective Impulses

Hatter must have been more exhausted than he realized, for he never thought sleep would be possible that night. Firstly, the position he had settled himself in was not conducive for sleeping. He had propped himself up against the wooden gate outside the little barn, leaving the lone bed in the encampment free for Alice's use. The young man had never been one to suspect he had a chivalrous bone in his body, but the entire day had forced him to reevaluate his own self. There were a lot of things Hatter believed he would never do or condone that he had succeeded in proving himself wrong about today. That alone was enough to wear him out.

The discomfort of his sleeping area was minor at best, since he had found himself sleeping in rather more unlikely and uncomfortable places in the past. He could manage well enough with that. What Hatter thought he could not manage was the stunning story Alice had told him still spinning around his head. It demanded precedence over even that moment of intense awkwardness between them which had caused her to flee from his presence. A cavalcade of emotions was descending upon him like a deluge in response to his companion's blunt revelations. He did not know what to do with all of them. Wonderland born and bred, there was no defense he could marshal against them.

He was in awe of the truth behind her strange and fantastic abilities. Hatter thought he had suspected something along the lines of Alice being some kind of a fighter back in her world, but what he had suspected ended up being legions away from the startling reality. She was so much more than a mere fighter, she was a warrior and a protector, handpicked by some mystical force to battle creatures that should never have existed. He marveled over the fact that such a small girl could be so powerful and formidable, although her size probably made her even more so. Nothing was more threatening than when it appeared to be weak and harmless.

But the horror of Alice's so-called occupation evoked a rush of hopeless anguish within him. He knew she had spared no details when describing the creatures she had been Called to fight. These vampires sounded like they had been molded out of the darkest of nightmares. He knew of nothing like them existing in Wonderland, and he was exceedingly grateful over that fact. To think that her world had once been crawling with them made him shudder with revulsion. It was no wonder she had laughed in his face when he told her breaking into the casino was too dangerous a feat. Apparently, she lived and breathed danger on a daily (well, _nightly_) basis back in her world.

_"Where I come from is the real fire. _This_ is the frying pan to me."_

His stomach coiled up into a knot of sickened dread when he thought about all she must endure to protect a population of people who did not even believe these dangers existed. As awestruck by her abilities and her story as he was, Hatter desperately wanted it to be untrue. Why it even mattered was a mystery because she would be leaving this world soon enough and he would likely never see her again. But he could not stop thinking about the fact that she would leave this world only to go right back through the motions of her dangerous, bloody lifestyle. She may have told him the life of a Vampire Slayer was no longer as perilous as it once was, but he could sense she was unconsciously holding the full truth back. Her blasé remarks throughout their short acquaintanceship had seemed innocent enough, but they had dropped huge hints. Not only had she been wounded before, but she had been wounded multiple times. She had seen enough battle and death to form almost a detached attitude to it. The girl seemed to produce a sense of humor only after she had experienced a brush with death!

The thought of Alice leaving this world made him feel strangely hollow and forlorn, but at least before he had been comforted by the notion that she would be going somewhere infinitely safer. Now that he knew her world had the potential to be quite more dangerous than his own and that she was specifically employed to seek out and fight those dangers, the thought of her leaving made him feel sick with terror and desolation. The protectiveness within him rose up and cried out in rebellion at letting her leave.

_What difference does it make?_ Hatter would ask himself. _Either way you'll never see her again. And even if she wasn't a Vampire Slayer she could still be killed over there by some accident and you'd never know it. Not to mention oysters never live for very long anyway. _

But knowing she would be relatively safe and knowing she would be in constant, merciless danger made all the difference. She would be in danger and he would not be there to protect her. That was the crux of the issue, he finally admitted. Hatter knew she did not need his protection, but it did not diminish the powerful urge he felt to jump to defend her whenever she was in danger. It had become almost a reflex for him to try to shield her from harm. Since he had been a lad of sixteen he had almost always thought to protect and defend no one but himself. But not only did he now feel protective to the point of sacrificing his own life for Alice, but it was engendering other more noble inclinations within him. He was now willing to stay and put his life on the line for all those refugees hiding out in the Great Library, an entire group of people he did not know and probably never would. Perhaps the sacrificial nature of Alice's vocation was rubbing off on him.

As these dismaying thoughts swam through Hatter's head, he tightly clenched his strength-enhanced right fist so that even his blunted, short nails were digging little half-moon impressions into the skin of his palm. His eyes drifted down to his right arm, the very arm which carried the collective force of ten men in one punch. His aptly named Sledgehammer had appeared during his prickly, awkward adolescent stage when he was shuffling his boyish form for that of the man he would later become. There had been no explanation behind it, although his mother had alluded to it being something inherited from his father's side of the family. His father, unfortunately, had not been around to elaborate on that point, having been executed at the queen's command when Hatter had been a small child. This was something he had yet to inform Alice about, and he felt he probably could have found an opening to explain it during her own story. At the time, however, he had been too caught up by her words. He wondered what she would make of it. He also wondered if the strength in this one arm eclipsed even that of a Slayer's.

Hatter sighed, unfurling the fingers on his right hand and pulling his hat off to rest it on his bent right knee. He distantly noticed that Alice was still standing in front of the campfire, no doubt grappling with anger and disappointment over his conviction that her boyfriend could not be saved. He yearned to go over to her and wrap her in his arms to whisper soothing words of comfort and apology. But he knew she would not appreciate his intrusion at the moment. Besides, in spite of all those troubling things in his head, he was starting to feel a sweet, encompassing sense of languor infuse his limbs.

Before long, he was tumbling into a world of dreams where he could embrace Alice with wild abandon and where there was no boyfriend to rescue, no Queen of Hearts to fear, no Resistance leaders to mollify, no vampires to fight, and no terrible, irrefutable destiny to return to. There was just Hatter and Alice, like it was always meant to be that way. In these dreams he could finally understand the meaning behind all those feelings and inclinations, and, unlike in the real world, he was not afraid to embrace the truth. In these dreams he could finally act upon those whispered desires he had been struggling against the whole time he had been around this enchanting oyster. Hatter never wanted these dreams to end, even if a part of his dream-self knew none of it was real.

A loud sound of something cracking or falling followed by that damn bird and its obnoxious squawks catapulted Hatter from his lovely dream world into the far less lovely waking world. The noise shocked him awake, causing his whole body to tense up. Shooting pains assaulted his abused neck, shoulders, and backside. His vision was muddled and hazy at first; the harsh glare of the morning sunlight caused him to shy away from fully opening his eyes until they properly adjusted to the increased light. He heard the sounds of Charlie thrashing around in his hammock, or, rather, falling out of his hammock in a stifled cry of fright.

"What the hell was that?" Hatter barked in a resentful, annoyed tone. The bird was still squawking indignantly. He also detected the sounds of something creaking like a chain swinging back and forth.

Groaning, the young man tightened his hold on his hat and pulled himself to his feet. He started stumbling past the entrance to the barn, not thinking to look inside at the moment. Had he been a little less disoriented from his jarring awakening, he probably would have noticed the feeling of something being amiss.

"Oh dear," he heard Charlie announce in a slightly panicked tone. "That was the early warning system! Someone has broken through the perimeter!"

It took a few seconds for Hatter's sleep-addled mind to properly absorb Charlie's declaration. When the full gravity of the situation became apparent to him, he felt a jolt of alarm run through him. Charlie, being the clever inventor he was, had constructed an elaborate security system around the border of the kingdom. It was triggered to alert him should anyone enter or leave the kingdom without his permission. He had proudly outlined its ingenious design to Hatter while Alice had been bathing. He recalled Charlie's description of what would happen when the alarm had been tripped, the last part being about an object hitting the suspended cage with that crow inside it, which would cause the animal to cry out angrily.

The first and most obvious conclusion he jumped to was that Mad March and his posse had found them. Had they not hidden their tracks as well as he had thought? Or was that posthumous assassin an even better tracker than Hatter had given him credit for. Feeling cold sweat start to form beads on his forehead, he twisted his neck towards the inside of the shelter to see if Alice was still asleep, surprised he had not yet heard her protests at the rude awakening.

All he found was an empty bed. Alice was nowhere in sight.

Hatter's heart nearly decided to give up on beating when he saw that the bed he had assumed Alice would be asleep in was devastatingly devoid of life. The tattered quilt was half turned over at the top, leaving a corner of it to drape over the edge of the bed to trail upon the floor. It looked like someone had been lying in the bed at some point during the night, but had thrown off the covers and gotten out of it. There were few reasons to leave a soft, inviting bed after a day full of flight from various dangers. Alice had had one very good reason (in her view, anyway) to leave that bed and the Kingdom of the Knights.

_Oh no. Please...no,_ his mind cried out.

A well of panic threatened to overflow the young man until he smothered it. He forced it down beneath a layer of tenuously grasped justifications for Alice's lack of presence. Just because her bed was empty it did not mean she had left the kingdom entirely. She could have woken up early and decided to take care of some personal needs. Perhaps she was having another bath. Maybe she felt the need to take a stroll. He told himself these things as he turned around to see Charlie, dressed in nothing but his white linen underclothes, clutching a stuffed bear in one hand and a mallet in the other.

"Battle stations! Sound the order of the Seraphim! Drum!" the old knight was calling out.

Hatter swallowed the lump growing in his throat as he threw open the gate and walked out into the middle of the encampment. "Where is Alice?" he asked Charlie, endeavoring to sound calm but not able to prevent the thread of distress which entered his voice.

Charlie did not answer him, but bellowed out "Fight! Fight!" while swinging the mallet around. He nearly clipped Hatter in the face with it, but the young man did not appear to care or notice. In fact, such an act would have probably sent him into blessed unconsciousness and he would not have had to see what was now holding his eyes horribly captive. His face drained of all color and his stomach twisted into knots of dread and anguish. He had been denying the truth of where Alice had gone up until this point, though his heart must have known the terrible truth once he saw the empty bed. But now he could no longer continue to deny it.

The alarm system had not been tripped because someone had been coming into the kingdom. The alarm system had been tripped because someone had been leaving it.

The velvet coat he had loaned to Alice just the day before was hung upon the ladder standing against the tree directly across from the barn. He had loaned her that coat for two reasons. He had wanted to keep her from getting a chill and he had also wanted to keep her green mark hidden so she could not be so easily identified as an oyster. She had left that coat behind, which meant she was now running around with her mark fully exposed. He had a terrible, sinking feeling that such had been her intention. Alice had purposefully taken off the coat and left it so that her mark could be seen. She was walking right into the hands of the enemy. He did not know how he knew it, but somehow he knew that was her plan. It was the only thing that made sense. She did not know her way to the casino where her beloved Jack was imprisoned. But there was a posse full of men led by the most talented tracker and skilled killer in Wonderland who were searching for an escaped oyster. They would only be too happy to take her there. And while the ability to put up a fight was there at Alice's command, Hatter knew she would not use it. She would go with them without a fuss. The girl was practically nailing her own coffin shut.

Hatter slowly shook his head. "No," he whispered in agony. "No!" The second denial broke out in a loud, anguished cry.

Oh, why was that girl so utterly stubborn and reckless? He had tried to make it clear that the queen would never negotiate with anyone, much less an oyster who had managed to escape her once already. But, of course, how could he get through to someone who lived a life of constant battles and danger? How could he make a girl who fought creatures like vampires develop a healthy respect and fear for the power the Queen of Hearts wielded? Alice could never take the dangers of the casino, Mad March, or the Queen of Hearts seriously after what she faced in her world. He understood and admired her foolish courage as much as he loathed it.

The impulse started blotting out the grief and anguish. It was the protective impulse which had sent Hatter leaping into the path of a gun and given him the crazy idea of being bait for a jabberwock all for the sake of keeping Alice safe. He had no idea how long the girl had been gone, but instinct told him she had probably left before daybreak. She had slipped right past him on the path to her doom while he had slumbered away in his dreams of lovemaking and kisses. As long as he lived, he would never forgive himself for that.

He cleared his throat and called out to Charlie. "Charlie! Alice is gone! I need a horse to go after her!"

"What!" the old knight sputtered. "The lady is missing?" To his credit, Charlie's expression darkened with concern. "Well, then, to arms! We must ride to the rescue of the fair damsel!"

Asking for the knight's permission to use a horse had merely been a formality. One way or another, Hatter was taking one of those creatures to ride to the casino. It was probably far too late to intercept the foolish girl. He immediately started running in the direction of the small stable where Charlie's horses were kept, desperation fueling his steps with lightning-fast speed. The old knight followed behind with surprising quickness for his old age.

"Now, hold on, Vassal!" Charlie yelled.

Hatter had reached the stable and had wasted no time in untying Guinevere and leading her out of her stall. With single-minded efficiency, he collected all the gear he would require for travel upon horseback and began securing it to the mare.

"Just stay here, Charlie," Hatter said, his tone curiously numb as he worked at gearing Guinevere for the journey.

The old knight hissed in indignation at that order. "But you won't find her without my help!" he insisted hotly.

Gritting his teeth, Hatter tightened the buckles on the saddle and then replied, "It's not your fight, Charlie. You don't have to come." It was true. The old knight had done more for him and Alice than either of them could have asked. And, in spite of the knight's truculent attitude towards him, Hatter did not want to get Charlie involved in a matter which could lead to the old man being injured, captured, and/or killed.

"Oh, you couldn't be more wrong," Charlie scoffed. "You led the Alice of Legend to _me_ for a reason. It was fate! Divinity! An alignment of forces beyond mortal understanding!"

Hatter ignored the old man as he locked his foot into the stirrup to heave himself up into the saddle.

Charlie continued to rant. "Call it what you will, but, in time, you will see that _I_ am the true paladin here and you are merely a harbinger!"

Hatter guided the horse to turn around, throwing a short glance at Charlie who was walking off in the opposite direction with his fingers pressed to his temples. "Remember, I am well-versed in the _black arts_," he reminded the younger man, dropping his voice to the stage whisper. "We shall be guided by my psychic connection to the mysterious sinews that bind mankind to the outer realm."

Hatter shook his head and started inciting the mare into a trot, only to halt when he heard Charlie call out almost scathingly, "You're going the wrong way, Harbinger. We must go west."

Hatter knew west was not the direction Alice had gone, whatever Charlie's barmy psychic powers were telling him. The casino was east of them. "You go west," Hatter replied in a calm tone which belied the distress wracking his body. "I'm going east. She's gone to the Hearts Casino."

"What?" Charlie's eyes widened with shock and panic. He took a few uncertain steps toward Hatter before saying words which chilled the younger man to the bone though he had already thought them. It made the situation far more real and frightening when hearing it from another person. "But...but that's certain death! Why on earth would she go there?"

_Because she's stupid and brave and in love, and it's not with me,_ he thought bitterly, blinking back the tears which welled in his eyes.

He forbade his mind from going further on the subject for it made his heart ache far too much. He needed to keep his focus on what he was trying to do to prevent Alice from meeting with certain death. Hatter would not allow himself to accept the realization that he was going to the Hearts Casino to rescue Alice for the same reasons she was going there to rescue Jack. He also could not allow himself to think that if he were in Alice's position and he knew she was trapped in the casino he would be doing everything possible, including putting his own neck at risk, to save her.

Hatter kicked Guinevere into a fast trot, warming her up in preparation for a full-speed gallop. He had been on the trail for perhaps five minutes when he heard the rumbling sound of another horse's hooves pounding the ground. He turned his head to see Charlie, dressed in full White Knight regalia, slapping the reins wildly as Archibald galloped towards them.

"Charlie!" Hatter shouted, half amazed the old man had gotten ready so quickly and half annoyed he was bound on coming even after the younger man had told him to stay behind. "I told you, you don't have to come!"

Charlie pulled up short next to Hatter and turned his nose up at him with that trademark supercilious glare upon his face. "And I believe I told you that you could not be more wrong in that regard, Harbinger. I have sworn an oath to the spirits of my slain comrades and my honorable lord the Red King that I would protect the Lady Alice at the cost of my very life."

_Oh for crying out loud,_ Hatter silently lamented. His first thought was that he should knock the knight out senseless so the old man would not get himself maimed or killed in the rescue attempt. If he did manage to rescue Alice, she would no doubt be outraged about that. However, the knight may just prove useful, if only as a diversion so Hatter could slip past the casino guard. Upon further contemplation, Hatter realized it probably would be wiser to have an ally when attempting to break into one of the most secure and guarded fortresses in all of Wonderland.

"Besides, I could not just leave Lady Alice's fate in the hands of an amateur," Charlie told him snippily. Without even waiting for Hatter's reaction to the insult, he slapped the reins and started trotting off ahead of Hatter.

"An amateur?" Hatter sputtered, slapping his own reins to incite Guinevere to catch up to Charlie and Archibald. "Look, just because I'm not a bloody knight does not mean I don't know a thing or two about battle."

Charlie's response was to shrug in indifference. Hatter huffed indignantly, but decided it would be better to stew in his own thoughts than start up a pointless argument with a man who was over 150 years old and somewhat off his rocker. They continued upon the path in silence.

After an interminable amount of time, Charlie broke the silence with a very reasonable question. "Harbinger, just why is the Lady Alice going to the casino? Surely you must have warned her of the perils that would await her there?" the old knight asked in an accusatory tone. Clearly, he was intent on never addressing the younger man by name.

Hatter's laugh was utterly devoid of humor. "Oh, only about fifty times," he replied sullenly. "She's going there because her _boyfriend_ is trapped there. That's the whole reason she's here in Wonderland. The White Rabbit took her boyfriend and she jumped into the Looking Glass after them." His grip tightened on the reins as his fear for Alice and his anger at her complete disregard for her own safety overcame him.

"Ah," Charlie sighed in admiration. "She would have made a fine White Knight. Gallantly riding off to her gentleman's rescue."

The teashop owner rolled his eyes, not nearly so impressed with Alice's willful actions. "Gallant? It's bloody stupid. She could get herself killed!" Without intending it, he had let some of his fear and frustration slip into his voice, which sent his pitch up an octave or two.

Charlie was silent for a few moments. Hatter glanced over at the old knight and saw that the older man was staring at him with sharp scrutiny. There was a peculiar, knowing look in his pale blue eyes. Feeling decidedly uncomfortable under the inspection, he turned his gaze away.

"Fear not! For I shall rout out all those who would harm the lady and make them taste my cold steel in the name of justice and the Red King!" the old knight declared confidently. "And, lest you forget, I also have my talents in the _black arts_." The stage-whisper returned as if it were absolutely required those two words be spoken only in that manner.

Hatter almost smiled at the knight's bravado, but there was far too much doubt and anguish clutching hold of him to take the older man's words to heart. He only weakly nodded his head, wishing he could summon the same level of confidence. What had happened to him? He used to be so self-assured almost all the time, secure in the knowledge that only he knew all the cards and he could play everyone at the table like a violin. Alice was a wild card he had not foreseen, however. As beautiful as she was, she was an element outside of the pattern. All the strange, twisted order he had known was deteriorating into chaos.

Hatter's dark musing was interrupted by Charlie clearing his throat and asking in a curious, grave tone, "Just how does the lady expect to rescue this man from the clutches of the treacherous queen?"

Hatter sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Oh, she's got this loony idea that she can negotiate with the queen using the..." his words trailed off as a horrible and stunning realization hit him. He had not given a single thought to the ring. By all rights, it should have been his first concern. The ring was the only way he could come close to returning to whatever one could call Dodo's "good graces". It was also the only trump card the Resistance could hold against the queen. But he had only been thinking about what would become of Alice. His subconscious had placed her well-being ahead of that of his own already, and now it appeared to have placed it ahead of the Resistance's.

"Oh...shit," Hatter blurted.

"What is it, Harbinger?" Charlie leaned forward, his expression wary. His hand hovered over the hilt of his sword.

"Ride faster," Hatter advised succinctly. Then, with a flick of the reins and without even waiting for a response, he tore off through the woods upon Guinevere.

* * *

Hooray for male bonding! Well, sort of, haha.

So there are some subtle hints into Hatter's past, a past which I'll be taking some artistic license with since they didn't say much about it in the miniseries. It will be expanded upon later, don't worry.

I am playing with the idea of making some M-rated bonuses as separate pieces, starting with Hatter's steamy dream, hehe. What do you think?


	13. Royal Pains

Wow, another long one. There was a lot of stuff to cram into this one chapter though, so bear with me. Thanks to my reviewers from last chapter and I hope you all enjoy this one, as well as the...tweaks...I made to it. Hehe.

* * *

**Chapter XII: **Royal Pains

A few minutes after boarding the Scarab, Alice was standing holding her hands behind her back, her face ashen and slick with sweat. Suits ringed her from all angles, their hands resting upon their side-arms with firm warning. Her entire body was at war with itself. The Slayer within was mercilessly plaguing her with the urge to lash out like a wounded, cornered animal and fight her captors. Her instincts were sensing doom upon the horizon and they were doing everything within their power to force her to remove herself from the path. The dutiful girlfriend and human being within her, however, kept seeing Jack, being chained up and subjected to the worst tortures her mind could imagine.

It was Mad March. His mere presence was driving her Slayer instincts up the wall. There was something about him that caused her to recoil with disgust and horror. He was not supposed to be here, that much she was certain of, though she did not know how she knew it. There was barely a thread of humanity within him, unlike all the others. This paltry thread was completely dwarfed by an aura of grotesque alteration. It was like someone had taken a priceless painting and had scrambled all the colors up, marring the beautiful image into something monstrous. She cursed herself for not taking the opportunity to question Hatter about this Suit whom he must have had dealings with in the past. His information probably could have solved a lot of problems for her at the moment.

"We need to search her before we bring her before the queen," the man with the bowler hat announced. She supposed he was the one in charge since he was the only one, thus far, who had issued any commands.

An ominous mechanical clicking sound caused Alice's muscles to tense defensively. She knew even without looking that Mad March had turned his sightless porcelain gaze onto her. His glassy visage was another element which unnerved her. The young Slayer set much store by reading expressions and eyes, and such a thing was impossible with the expressionless face of Mad March.

"Gladly," Mad March crooned in his tinny, mechanical voice. There was again that sense of malevolent glee in the air.

"_Not_ you," bowler hat man barked in warning. Alice ticked her head to the side when she heard the undercurrent of fear in the man's voice.

_He's afraid of him_, she realized. How was it possible to control such a creature, then? She recalled how the man in the bowler hat and club medallion had used the queen to get Mad March to stand down. The Queen of Hearts must have had some manner to control or threaten Mad March. The thought of being powerful enough to keep a monster like him in line caused Alice to rethink her previous notions about the notorious queen. Hatter's words came back to haunt her. "_You can't negotiate with the queen! She's crazy!"_ He had been utterly terrified at even the mention of her going before the queen. She was now starting to see why.

The girl gritted her teeth and submitted to a search by one of the Suits, hoping it would not resort to a strip or cavity search. She lifted up her arms and followed his simple directives as he patted her down. When his hands drifted to the rip in her dress with the grungy white of the linen bandages peaking through, she stiffened. The Suit paused in his search, his hands hovering over the area.

"What happened there?" the bowler hat man inquired coolly. She wondered why it was he who asked and not the Suit who was searching her. She knew these men possessed the ability to speak.

"I fell into that pit and hit one of the sticks," Alice replied, shrugging. The wound was still only partially-healed, but she knew that it would appear to be well over a day old.

The man was silent for a moment, his dark eyes roving over her as if he were deciding whether or not she was crazy enough to cut into herself and hide the ring within her own flesh. He appeared to accept the explanation and then nodded at the Suit to continue searching. He briskly patted her down, unapologetically running his hands up her thighs, but not as far as she feared he might go. He then ran his fingers through her freshly cleaned dark locks. Once the inspection was complete, the Suit turned to face the bowler hat man.

"It appears she does not have the ring in her possession, Sir," the Suit reported in a flat voice.

"Bullshit," Mad March snapped. "We gotta search her _everywhere_."

Alice's entire body tensed up at that remark, and her fists clenched tightly. "I don't have it," she said tersely. She eyed the Suits warily, but carefully kept her gaze from straying to Mad March.

The bowler hat man regarded her stoically for a few moments before sighing. "We're almost there anyway. We will let the queen decide if a more thorough search is necessary."

She could have kissed the man right then. It would not have done to have all her plans ruined simply because they attempted to strip search her.

The remainder of the time upon the Scarab passed in uneasy silence as Alice drew upon her meditation skills to focus her breathing and her mind. All Slayers were trained in yoga and other meditative arts to help center themselves and better control their immense strength. She sought out Jack's image to remind herself why she was enduring all this, but every time she brought his face up it would eventually morph into Hatter's face. Her breathing would quicken when she saw in her mind's eye that dashing roguish smile, those glossy chocolate eyes, and that crazy, unruly hair curling up over the brim of that damned porkpie hat.

_I hope he's not too angry with me. Of course, I'll probably never see him again so it won't really matter if he is pissed with me, I guess._

The girl opened her eyes when she noticed the Scarab was slowing down. Her eyes widened at the sight she viewed from the wide window adorning the front portion of the airborne vehicle. In the distance there was a huge building rising up from the ground. It was one of the most bizarre structures she had ever seen, but from everything else she had seen in this place, she supposed it was nothing for a Wonderland building. The base of the building was extremely narrow, and as it rose it got progressively wider as if someone had tipped a pyramid over and set it upon its apex. The structure looked to have been set up in a stacking pattern, with different layers jutting out at opposing angles. As the Scarab got closer, Alice could make out the images of playing card suits inscribed onto the outer walls of the separate layers while triangular shaped windows adorned the adjacent sides. Atop the building were enormous red heart structures which were brightly lit up. HAPPY HEARTS CASINO continually flashed directly from beneath the large hearts. Underneath the title of the place the phrase LIVING THE DREAM scrolled along a horizontal bar much like the digital scroll bar she had seen at the Tea House.

After having seen the breath-taking beauty and dignity of the crumbling monuments remaining of the Kingdom of the Knights, Alice felt slightly repulsed by this garish building. If this was how the outside appeared, she could only imagine how gaudy the inside would look.

The Scarab flew toward an overhanging rectangular slab of concrete at what Alice suspected was the highest level of the building. This level was directly below the bright flashing lights of the top of the building, and it stood out from all the others in its relative simplicity. There were no playing card suits inscribed on the walls, but a mere line of white columns set in between long, rectangular windows.

Alice drew in a deep breath of air, bringing her mind to focus and calm as the Scarab smoothly landed upon the surface of the overhang. She banished Hatter's face from her thoughts, feeling she could not allow herself to be distracted by her guilt and inexplicable yearning. She would need every ounce of self-confidence and control she possessed to attempt to bluff the Queen of Hearts into a negotiation of Jack's release. When the Suits ringed her once more (including the two token ones who were assigned to flank her and hold onto her upper arms) she summoned her nerve. Throwing her shoulders back and holding her head high, the captive girl descended the ramp into the outside world.

Her blood pulsed alarmingly in her temples, ominously echoing the furious beat of her heart in her ears, as she stepped onto the surface. She had to be hundreds, perhaps a thousand, feet in the air, and the notion of it was draining the nerve she was desperately clinging to. Her face and neck felt warm and clammy at the same time while beads of sweat were sliding down her skin. Mad March's nearness was not helping matters either. It was like a double whammy, being forced to be so close to two things which instigated such crippling fear. The Suits were leading her toward a glass door, and Alice was shocked by how well she was keeping up when it felt like her lower limbs had gone completely numb. Her stomach tossed its contents around within her, leading her to wonder if last night's grilled borogove would end up splattered on the crisp charcoal suits of some of her captors.

That was not such a bad thing, she decided.

Though she knew she was entering the domain of the enemy, Alice had never been so glad to step inside a building. With the numbness and nausea abating to more manageable levels, she was more able to study her surroundings. The men led her down a hallway which was surprisingly bare of ostentation. Dark gray stone lined the hallways, giving off a sinister ambiance. An occasional plaque upon the wall would showcase the large red heart emblem just in case someone was to forget who ruled this place.

They came to the sleek chrome doors of an elevator. Alice wondered if the inside would look the same as an ordinary elevator, or if it would resemble that strange bus-elevator back at the Great Library. She was somewhat disappointed to find the doors opened to a normal rectangular space with wallpaper covering the walls in a pattern of red hearts. The girl had a feeling that, by the time all this nonsense was through, she would never want to lay eyes on red hearts ever again.

_I never much cared for Valentine's Day anyway,_ she thought to herself as she was filed into the small space with Mad March and the bowler hat man. She was at least grateful they did not seek to fit the entire company of Suits onto the elevator all at once.

The doors opened into a lobby area with an array of solid red and solid white chairs set in the center of the room. The walls were the same dark gray shade, but down here there was more décor. Red hearts along with diamonds, spades, and clubs adorned the walls. They emerged from the elevator with the bowler hat man in the lead and Mad March bringing up the rear. She was not pleased with how that fell out, for she would much rather have kept the man/thing in her line of vision.

There were people crossing the lobby floor, sometimes singly, sometimes in pairs or small groups. The vast majority of these people were women dressed in white, knee-length dresses with large, glittering red diamonds on them. They also wore strange, sparkling red coverings upon their heads and tall crimson boots with heels that made audible clicking sounds against the stone floor. They barely gave Alice a turn of their heads as she crossed the lobby, although she noted how they gave the three of them a wide berth. She scanned the area for possible exits, but all she saw were red doors and elevators which could have led anywhere. The only way into and out of the building could not have been up at the top level. If it were, that would make an escape (especially an escape where she would, no doubt, be pursued) incredibly complicated.

The entire time Alice was being led to whatever destination these people intended she was subtly scrutinizing the area for anything she might use to her advantage. Quietly she said she would come, but she would be damned if she was not going to be prepared to leave in a manner which was not so quiet. The occasional little table with a green houseplant set upon it or the huge dark gray vase would be marked down as a potential weapon or tool of distraction. The locations of stairways and any particularly interesting doors were noted and filed away for future use. She paid special attention to labels, especially the one that was marked _Laboratory_. A few people walked out of there dressed in the strangest lab regalia she had ever seen. Overlarge plastic lab jackets with ridiculously large collars on top of yellow shirts and gray slacks.

They approached a set of red double doors. The bowler hat man pushed through them and Alice, of course, had no choice but to follow him inside. What the room held caused her to pause and gasp aloud in shock.

"Keep moving," Mad March ordered, giving her a little push. The girl obeyed, but could not suppress the look of abject horror on her face.

The room was filled with people, and not just those diamond girls in their white dresses and red boots. There were probably over a hundred people from her world in this room. They hailed from several different races and age groups and there appeared to be about as many men as women. Most people were dressed in casual, everyday clothing. Some were dressed in occupational uniforms. As she passed through, she saw a man wearing the uniform of a police officer and a man dressed up in a postal worker uniform. She even saw a young woman wearing a set of green scrubs, a surgical cap still tied around her forehead. All of them had a few things in common, however. Every single one of these people had the winding green mark branding their skin; most on their faces, some on their necks. All of were standing upright with their eyes open, but their expressions were dazed as if they were sleepwalking. And, once Alice happened to glance downward, she saw that not a single one of the people from her world was wearing any sort of footwear. Their feet were bare upon the lacquered floor of black and white circles set into squares.

A quick scan, however, left her disappointed. Her boyfriend was not among these people. Jack was being kept somewhere else in this place.

This single room actually lived up to the name of the place, as it had all the typical accoutrements of a casino. There was a spinning roulette wheel, a blackjack table with one of those young diamond women doling out the cards with a saccharine smile on her heavily painted face, as well as coin slots and a table for craps. There was even a small stage area where three women danced erotically in feathered headdresses and sheer, gauzy dresses with dazzling silver diamonds covering their breasts and groins. A line of men stood before the stage, their heads cocked to the side, jaws agape, and the same glazed over expression on their faces.

_Well, at least the guys mindlessly ogling the showgirls seems about right,_ Alice noted to herself in an ironic tone.

"What the hell is this?" she asked aloud, halfway turning around and nearly bumping into one of the oysters. The man, a middle-aged fellow with graying hair dressed in a brown tweed suit, did not glance at her. He did not even seem to notice she was there or had bumped into him at all.

"Hey," she said to the man. He gave no response.

"Hey, wake up! Jesus Christ, these people are half asleep! What the fuck have you done to them?" she questioned furiously.

She would have proceeded to poke and shake the man had not Mad March intervened. He grabbed her arm and roughly yanked her away from the man. His hands were colder than ice and it took everything the girl had not to utilize her strength and lash out at him to escape his unpredictably strong grip. She looked up to see the bowler hat man walking back towards them with an aggrieved expression upon his face.

"Contain yourself, oyster. You are about to be brought before Their Majesties the King and Queen of Hearts. I suggest you show more restraint in their presence if you value your head," the man warned her in a stern tone.

Alice bit back the saucy retort she wanted to throw back at him and merely nodded her head. She felt Mad March's grip slacken somewhat and took the opportunity to shake out of his touch and quickly scurry ahead of him. Her skin crawled in revulsion where Mad March's cold fingers had touched it.

She followed the bowler hat man into a shorter hallway where windows lined the wall, allowing the weak light of day to stream into the corridor. There was a larger set of double doors to their left and the handles were carved into the shape of a heart. Two Suits stood guard beside the doors. She was shocked to see they were dressed in white instead of charcoal, with large red hearts upon their suit jackets and a bright red A upon their right shoulders.

_They're Aces. Aces of Hearts. _

Alice knew they were going to enter those doors even before the bowler hat man stopped before them. The guards and the heart-shaped door handles all implied that those doors led into the Throne Room where the Heart sovereigns awaited.

_Here goes nothing, _she thought to herself, mimicking Hatter's voice in her head when he had said it to her right before she launched him out of Charlie's pit.

The room was huge and sparsely populated with a few clusters of richly dressed men and women standing on the raised levels lining the wall. They began whispering frantically at the appearance of Alice. Instead of the lacquered tile flooring of the casino room the floor of the throne room was covered in a thick, ivory carpet. Gauzy white drapes flowed gracefully from the ceiling to the floor. At the far end of the room there was a series of steps leading up to a bi-leveled dais. Standing before the dais off to Alice's right was a man dressed in black robes with a silver club medallion identical to the one worn by the man in the bowler hat hanging from his neck. He wore a club shaped hat upon his own head.

On the lower level of the dais, a man dressed in a dark suit with black velvet stripes sat in a red, high backed swivel chair. He looked to be in his fifties and he was somewhat heavyset with short brown hair which grew in small, tight curls. He grinned widely at Alice, immediately turning his neck to glance up at the higher level of the dais. The girl followed his gaze to see that it was _she_ who sat in the seat of power, a throne carved into the shape of a large crimson heart.

While Alice could not exactly say she had relished the moment she would meet the infamous Queen of Hearts, there had definitely been a sort of dark anticipation to the ordeal. There was a strange sense of gratification at finally coming face to face with the woman who had become the cause of all of her troubles (not to mention all of Wonderland's troubles). The girl had to admit, the woman who sat upon the throne was not what she had expected. But, at the same time, she seemed to fit the image of Wonderland's psychotic queen.

She was dressed in dark red robes with heart designs intricately woven into the fabric with black sequins. Her hair was the color of luscious red wine with part of it pulled up into an elaborate coif of swirling crimson curls. Her face bore the remnants of the ravishing beauty she must have possessed in her youth. Age had succeeded in adding weight to her frame and face as well as spidery wrinkles to the corners of her eyes and mouth. The skin of her neck sagged just slightly, but one could see even without the makeup her skin was creamy and pale. Her lips were full and colored in none other than dark red lipstick. Her eyes were blue, but there was not even the slightest hint of warmth to them. They regarded Alice with cool disdain while her lips curled down into a frown of distaste.

Her demeanor was none other than that of one born and raised in royalty. Her posture was ramrod straight even sitting down in her luxuriant throne and her hands were gracefully folded and resting upon her lap. Though her eyes were cold and unsympathetic, they were also sharp as a blade.

Alice straightened her posture and stood just before the dais steps as the eyes and judgment of the sovereigns and their fawning subjects descended upon her. The bowler hat man bowed graciously with a murmured, "Your Majesties." She did not know if Mad March bowed, but she knew that she would not bow. These people were not her monarchs.

"We have succeeded in capturing the oyster girl, Alice," the bowler hat man informed them.

"Yes, we can see that, you idiot. The girl is standing right here before us," the queen snapped in an impatient tone. "What I want to know is where my ring is. Did you succeed in getting that from her?"

The bowler hat man fumbled for an answer, no doubt afraid of the repercussions his answer would bring. After a few awkward moments, the man reclaimed his voice, though it was trembling as he replied, "Ah, well, the girl did not...does not...appear to have the ring on her person, Your Majesty."

"What?" the queen spat, her eyes sparking with ire. Whatever people had been standing near to the throne now backed away from it in alarm.

"You searched her, didn't you?" the king asked, rising from his seat. His tone lacked the same trill of danger and hostility his wife's bore.

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty," the bowler hat man said.

The king started slowly climbing down the steps, his gaze focusing on Alice. His eyes were a warm golden brown. In fact, they were very similar to the color of Jack's eyes. They looked her up and down with thoughtful interest.

"Well, we could always search her again...more thoroughly," he suggested slyly with a raised brow and a lascivious gleam to his eyes.

Alice pursed her lips and glared at the king in disgust and anger at his audacity. "It won't do you any good," she shot back in an acid tone.

"Oh, I don't know about that," the king drawled, his gaze once more roving over her in the same way a hungry man would eye a steak.

"Winston!" The queen's sharp voice sliced through the air, and its unspoken command forced the king to back off with a contrite expression on his face. He distanced himself from Alice by about half a foot and awkwardly patted down his suit and cleared his throat.

_Wow, is he whipped,_ Alice mused to herself.

"Where did you hide it, girl?" the queen demanded imperiously.

Alice sighed and looked the older woman straight in the eyes. Queen this woman may be, but Alice was a Vampire Slayer. She may not have wanted to expose her powers to the rulers of Wonderland, but she definitely did not want them to think she was one to be easily intimidated. The queen thrived off of the knowledge that she intimidated everyone and anyone. It was time for someone to break up that paradigm. If she could make the queen see that she was not one to back down, her demands for Jack's release just might make it to fruition.

"That's for me to know and you to _maybe_ find out...if it suits me," the girl replied in a somewhat cockier voice than she was accustomed to using.

There was a collective intake of breath around the room. Even the king's eyes practically bugged out of his head after Alice spoke so impertinently to the queen. The bowler hat man edged away from the girl as if the queen's inevitable homicidal rage toward her was like a net which would also fall upon him. The queen herself sat frozen; no doubt stunned someone had spoken to her in such a blatantly insolent manner. Her face bore no expression, but her blue eyes were raging with fiery anger.

"Do you know who you are speaking to, you foolish little oyster?" the queen intoned, her voice curiously calm in spite of the indignant rage seething through her eyes.

Alice inclined her head. "I know perfectly well who I am speaking to," she replied flatly. "And, like I told that white-haired asshole, if you want the ring, you'll have to play the game my way." She folded her arms across her chest, knowing this was the universal sign of stubbornness.

A muscle twitched in the queen's cheek as she sat upon the throne, speechless for almost a full minute. Her impressive bosom heaved upward as she drew in a deep breath and rose from her seat. Even from where Alice was standing, she could see the queen was short of stature. She was even shorter than Alice herself.

_That's one hell of a Napoleon complex she's sporting._

"You want to strike a bargain," the queen stated in a neutral tone. She started to descend the steps, her gaze locked onto Alice.

The girl nodded curtly. "Something like that."

The king scratched his chin, his brow furrowing. "Yes, yes. If we give you what you want, you'll tell us where you hid the ring," he said slowly, as if a bargain were a difficult concept to comprehend.

"Yes," Alice said, rolling her eyes. "That's how bargains work."

The queen was now standing next to her husband. Though he towered over her, she was still undeniably the one who held the reins of the relationship. The king did not appear to be the sharpest tack in the box, so perhaps it was better his wife was the one who wore the crown.

"The question is," the king pondered aloud, "did you leave it in your world...or in this one?"

A whip-like sound followed that question as the queen smacked her husband upside the head with a twisted expression of disgust on her face. "Winston, you idiot! Now she knows we don't know if she brought it with her! I told you to always let me do the talking!"

The king winced, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "I'm sorry, dearest," he mumbled ruefully. "This...interrogation business is very tricky."

"Wait!" the man suddenly shouted. He thrust his index finger in Alice's direction. "Is she _really_ that clever?"

The queen did not respond by slapping him this time. In fact, her red lips curled up into a smile dripping with malice. "Oh yes, I think she just may be," the regal woman said loftily. She walked down to stand before Alice, the malicious smile still plastered upon her face. "You walked into Mad March's trap on purpose, didn't you?"

Alice was not sure if that was a rhetorical question, but, nevertheless, she nodded her head. The queen, in turn, nodded her own knowingly. "Yes, I thought so. You wanted him to capture you because you did not know the way to the casino," she mused in her imperious voice.

"Of course," the queen continued pragmatically. "You'd only do that if you'd hidden the ring first. Somewhere very discreet, am I right?" The woman's eyes were glittering with dark mirth, as if this were all a delightful game to her.

Alice remained silent, allowing the queen to continue her little monologue uninterrupted. She would not rob the woman of her enjoyment of thinking she had guessed the girl's every move like a chess piece on a game board.

"Your plan was to cut a deal with one of my cohorts, make your demands, and return the ring only when they'd been met," the queen said arrogantly. She circled the girl, silent for a few moments as she studied her.

"I find it curious, your bravado," the queen finally commented. "Most people in your position when face to face with the Queen of Hearts, the most powerful woman in the history of literature, would have lost their nerve. But you..." she trailed off, her blue eyes intent upon Alice's own blue eyes. "You haven't lost your nerve at all. Or you're just an incredibly good actress."

"I haven't lost my nerve," the girl confirmed. "And believe me when I say that I will never give up the ring's location unless you give me what I want."

The queen drew back, her eyes darting just behind Alice where Mad March was probably standing. Though the girl could not see him, she could feel his sickening presence. She did not really fear the Queen of Hearts, but she could not deny her fear of Mad March. She endeavored to conceal her agitation in his presence from the queen, knowing the woman would only use this weakness against her.

"Such confidence, you have," the queen remarked, a strange, indefinable note to her voice which caused Alice's heart to leap in warning. "You really think we haven't a clue about you, don't you?"

Alice schooled her features to reveal nothing but confusion, though her heart was beginning to hammer wildly in her chest. "What do you mean?" she asked in as neutral a tone as she could manage.

The queen did not answer right away, her ruby red lips curling up into a grotesque mockery of a victorious smile. "The White Rabbit told us some _very_ interesting things occurred when he met you back in your world."

_Oh shit._

Even if Alice had carefully controlled her features to not give anything away, she was certain the queen would notice the blood drain from her skin. In a flash, the incident with the white-haired man replayed in her mind. She recalled losing her temper and effortlessly lifting him off his feet and slamming him against a wall. In her extreme anger and lack of foresight, she had not guessed that such an act would come back to haunt her. The girl had not even thought about the man reporting everything back to his mistress. At the time, she had not even known she would be dealing with the Queen of Hearts.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," the girl lied.

The Queen of Hearts regarded her with a raised brow, a skeptical look crossing her face. "Oh, you don't? Well, I do admit that I have my doubts. You are rather smaller than I expected for a girl who managed to lift a full grown man off his feet with one hand. It doesn't seem quite possible that you could possess such strength."

The queen then turned from Alice, her bright red curls whisking around her gracefully. She ascended the steps of the dais to stand upon the lower level, her back still turned away from the younger woman. "Still," the redhead uttered in an icy tone, "it's best to be prepared for such things."

Really, Alice should have known it was coming. The signs had all been there, but the girl had been reeling with self-recrimination over her impulsive actions against the white-haired man. When the queen snapped her fingers, the young Slayer should have been completely within the realm of capability to evade what was about to occur. She had felt and heard Mad March shift from behind her and her senses rose up in alarm. But, before her conscious mind caught up with reality, Mad March's arm had come around her chest and crushed her against him. She dispensed with her restraint from before and used the full force of her strength to throw his hold off of her.

Much to her horror, she failed. Slayers had immense strength, but it was not without its limits. Mad March may well have been a stone pillar embedded in the ground for all that she was able to push him away. His arm was clamped around her tightly, pressing down on her lungs and squeezing precious breaths of air from them. As if suffocation were not enough, her senses ran wild when she felt the cool sensation of metal press up against her pulsing carotid artery. Even though she could not see it, she could discern that the blade was razor sharp. Only a slight amount of pressure would need to be applied before arterial blood spray would start staining the immaculate ivory carpet.

_Fuck my life! You've got to be kidding me!_

"So, how about we strike that bargain?" The queen turned back around, an uncommonly cheerful smile on her face now that the balance of power had seemingly shifted in her favor.

Alice balled up all the loathing and anger within her and glared at the older woman, who laughed spitefully.

"You tell me where my ring is, and I will not order my lovely assassin to slit your throat," the queen said casually.

Mad March eased his grip just a bit, presumably to allow enough air into Alice's lungs to be able to speak. The girl took the opportunity to draw in deep calming breaths. While the situation may have exceeded her control just a little, there was yet a card to play. "Go ahead," Alice shot back in defiance. "Slit my throat. The dead don't speak. So you'll never find your precious ring."

The queen's expression flickered as she absorbed the weight of Alice's words. The girl held her breath at the indecision playing upon the older woman's striking features. When the woman sighed heavily, Alice knew she had her there. The young Slayer may well have valued her life, but, apparently, it did not match the value the queen put upon the ring. The ring was the only manner by which the queen held control over her people, and it appeared she was not willing to forsake it for anything.

"Very well," the queen reluctantly conceded. "What are your demands?"

Though Mad March did not release the girl from his hold, the slight pressure of the blade at her neck receded a little. Alice inhaled a deep, shaky breath. "I want you to free my boyfriend Jack Chase, and send us both home. When I'm certain that we're safe, I'll tell you where the ring is." This was the difficult part, for the girl had no intention of divulging the ring's true location. She had already imagined a false location to feed them with. The only obstacle was in getting them to buy into it. She mentally crossed her fingers as the queen thought upon her words. It was not so much to ask, to have one oyster (well, two) go free in exchange for the precious Stone of Wonderland.

A strange smile spread over the queen's face and she clasped her hands together in front of her. "Number nine!" she called.

The man in the black robes, silver club medallion, and club-shaped hat jumped to instant attention. He quickly walked over to stand before the queen and bowed in subservience. "Your Majesty?"

With her cold blue eyes upon Alice, the queen issued an order. "Go and fetch this Jack Chase and bring him here."

Alice frowned in confusion. How would they know which one Jack was? For she highly doubted they took down names when they abducted people from her world. She held her tongue, however, in the hopes that now things were starting to tip in her favor.

"But...ma'am," Number Nine stammered. Alice wondered if he had thought the same thing she had. How was he to know which of the many oysters Jack Chase was?

"Do as you're told!" the queen barked, sending the twitchy man scurrying away towards the large double doors.

The woman then walked back down the steps, her arrogant gaze upon Alice. The girl felt a cold shudder at the triumphant certainty in those eyes. There was something amiss here, she realized. The queen's demeanor did not suggest that she was reluctantly conceding to the demands of a wayward oyster girl. She seemed to be brimming with a sense of gleeful anticipation. What the queen was so thrilled about, the girl did not know, but she felt that it probably was not good for her.

At the queen's nod, Mad March released his grip upon her and drew back while she heard the double doors swing open behind her. Her heart began to beat furiously upon her ribcage.

"What a coincidence!" the queen chimed in a tone of mock surprise. "It appears Jack Chase was just outside the door! Me wonders why." Her voice carried an edge of vicious amusement, and it struck Alice's confidence to the core.

Turning around, the young woman gasped in mingled shock and relief to see that it was indeed her boyfriend walking upon the plush carpet. Such was her astounding relief to see him alive and unharmed that she gave no notice to his appearance and his general lack of happiness at seeing her. At the moment, all she cared about was that everything she had endured in this alien place had been all but vindicated. For once, something seemed to have finally gone right for her.

"Jack!" she breathed, running towards him. She launched herself at his tall frame and threw her arms around him. "Oh my god, are you okay? Did they hurt you? What..." her voice trailed off into confusion when she realized Jack's arms had not reciprocated the hug she was giving him. He was standing still, his arms hanging slack at his sides.

"I'm fine," her boyfriend replied in a flat voice. "What are you doing here?"

Alice pulled away from her one-sided embrace with Jack, her stomach turning over within her. "What do you mean? I came here to rescue you." Having drawn away from her lover to stand in front of him, his appearance finally caught up to her conscious notice. He was not wearing the same clothes he had left her home in. Instead, he was wearing a crimson suit jacket over top of a crisp, white buttoned shirt overlaid with a black tie. His slacks were likewise black in color. Even more astonishing than the wardrobe change was the change in his physical appearance. His brown hair was gone, replaced by platinum blonde locks which laid slick upon his head instead of sweeping over his brow. His eyes, at least, were the same golden brown. But where once they had been warm and inviting, they were now closed off, locking away any hint into his thoughts and feelings.

"Jack?" Alice asked, her voice sounding so small and weak. "What happened to you?"

The queen's voice cut through the reeling confusion and shock. "We found her running around in the woods all on her todd." It took a few moments to figure out the woman was addressing Jack. The squat monarch had glided over to stand beside the couple. "I brought her here. I was very curious to see what sort of tart my son has been running around with these days."

_Her what?_

Alice's brain temporarily blanked out under the weight of that revelation. She felt dazed, almost as if she had just taken a crushing blow to the temple by a demon. It was just too bizarre, too impossible, for such a notion to be true. But, then, logic started working its wonders, and in a quick flash, details which had once been overlooked or beyond comprehension started to fall into place. Hatter had asked her where Jack had gotten the ring. What she had not told him was that her boyfriend had claimed that the object had been in his family for a very long time. She had never realized the full significance of those words until now.

"Son?" Alice repeated obtusely. "You're her _son_?" This time her voice took on a note of anger. Jack's eyes finally showed a glimmer of emotion, which he sought to hide by glancing away from her. That emotion had been guilt.

"His real name is Jack Heart," the queen informed her smugly. "Yes, he lied to you about that as well, I'm afraid." The woman's mouth drooped down into a fake expression of sympathy.

"Mother," Jack pleaded, glancing towards the queen.

The word was like a sword thrust to the gut. Whatever shred of doubt Alice had been clinging to was destroyed by that one word. She could have made herself believe it was some elaborate scheme constructed by the Queen of Hearts. Denial was a powerful, attractive, and heady thing. But there was no denying now that Jack Chase had been a cruel sham, and she had eaten up every single lie he had fed to her like a glutton. She did not know who she ought to be angrier at: Jack, for deceiving her from the beginning, or herself, for foolishly believing everything.

_I'm such an idiot._

"Don't 'mother' me, you odious quisling!" the queen scolded. "Your girlfriend has hidden the Stone of Wonderland out there in the bushes somewhere!"

"She's not my girlfriend," Jack declaimed, his voice curiously devoid of emotion. His gaze slid over her, his eyes impossible to read as he added in a hollow tone, "She's nothing to me."

Alice gasped as if she had been viciously kicked in the stomach. What had happened here? At one point in the journey had things turned so wrong? How could he be doing this to her? Why was he doing this to her? So many questions rose up in her mind, but her tongue, so sharp and sure once before, had appeared to lose all ability to move. She could only stand there, taking the verbal blows as best as she could.

"Then why did you give her my ring?" his mother demanded angrily.

Jack sighed wearily. "As I told you before, I didn't give her the ring. She took it." He glanced from his mother to her, his golden brown eyes shifting restively.

"She was just an affair, that's all. Someone to pass the time with as I explored her world," he explained. "I took the ring so as to be certain I could return, but I had no idea she would go through my things while I was asleep."

"What?" Alice sputtered as sheer outrage enabled her to find her voice. "That's a lie. You gave it to me! I didn't want it and you slipped it in my fucking pocket!" Dangerously close to punching the lying, back-stabbing man whom she had risked so much to rescue, Alice took a few steps away from him.

"Alice," Jack said softly, coming closer to her. She sucked in a deep breath, telling herself that she would likely find Mad March's knife in her back if she slugged the _prince_ in the face.

"Tell us where you hid the ring," he requested. She frowned at the insincerity she heard in his voice. Just what was he playing at now?

Glaring at him, Alice flatly said, "No."

"I didn't ask you to come here, you know," he remarked. He was lying about that, too, but now Alice was not certain for whose benefit it was. She felt like she was on a stage playing a part she did not know the words to. Jack had definitely asked her to come meet his family. Why he would need to lie about that or even bring it up, she did not know. But it made her suspicious and doubtful. His eyes flitted from her to his mother along with a miniscule nod of his head.

_Is he...trying to hint at something?_

"I certainly didn't ask you to take the ring, so, come on. Tell everyone where it is!" Jack raised his voice on the last part. It was almost theatrical, the way he was speaking to her. Unlike his mother, he did not appear to really be interested in the answer to the question.

_He's trying to give you a "get out of jail free card", dummy,_ a voice inside her said.

"No," Alice began slowly, watching Jack's face. He seemed to approve of her answer, but there was yet more he wanted her to say. He silently mouthed the words _go home _to her. "I won't tell anyone where it is until I go home."

"Perhaps that's not such a bad idea," Jack said again in that overly loud tone of voice. He turned around to face his mother. "If I take her home, you'll be sure to get it back."

Alice looked up at the queen as the older woman mulled over the idea. The ruler sighed and shook her head. "Brilliant. But, the only niggle is, I wouldn't trust you if you told me the sun was round and besides, we've had to shut the Looking Glass down altogether now. I wouldn't be able to send the little harlot home even if I wanted to. Not without the ring."

_Oh shit, I forgot about that._ How that had slipped her mind was beyond her, for she had considered the consequences of leaving the ring behind in the encampment when she had been making the decision to come to the casino. Her first and foremost priority had simply been to get Jack out of the casino. Everything else had seemed unimportant in comparison to that.

The queen's robes swished softly as she glided towards the double doors. "I'm sure there's a way we could win over the girl without going all the way back to home, sweet home," the woman mused.

The doors opened, then, without the queen even raising a finger. Alice's brows knit together in perplexity as she saw the person who was standing in the doorway for a few seconds before proceeding to strut into the Throne Room. It was a woman, but not just any woman. She put all the supermodels in the young Slayer's world to shame with her abundance of golden locks framing a face which had been elegantly constructed. The arch of her brows, the line of her jaw, the shape of her lips; a sculptor could have scarce done better in molding perfection. Her statuesque frame was clothed in a metallic gold dress. The fabric descended from the bodice across the woman's torso, leaving the sides bare to show the fair beauty of her glorious curves. Her long legs peaked through high slits cut into the skirt.

"Ah, look who's here," the queen remarked sardonically. "Duchess."

The flaxen-haired woman gracefully curtseyed (earning a lewd "meow" from the king). With her head bowed, she uttered in a voice which was more of an airy purr, "Majesty". The cadence of her voice suggested that of a delicate, wilting flower, the hallmark of a demure noble lady. Alice knew better than to assume such, however, when the woman met her eyes. There was unexpected steel in those green-hazel eyes.

_Who is she? What could she possibly have to do with anything? _

The queen walked over to stand next to the tall beauty. "Jack," the older woman said scathingly. "Have you nothing to say to your fiancé?"

Was there to be no end to the shocking revelations Alice must endure? The girl felt her throat close all of a sudden, temporarily unable to speak under the weight of such a truth. Not only was Jack the son of a queen, but now he was engaged to a duchess who looked like the living incarnation of Aphrodite? This truth was a blow that hurt even more than learning he was a prince. Every word of affection he had spoken to her, every moment they had spent together in tender intimacy was brought before Alice's crumbling mind. He may never have actually said the "L word", but she thought he had made it quite clear that he cared deeply for her. What a grand ruse all that had been. Why would he want a girl like her when he had a noble beauty like the duchess? It had all been a wicked game to him.

Though Alice did not speak a word, the queen must have noticed her distress. "Don't tell me my son forgot to mention his lifelong love?" the queen sneered in that tone of fake incredulity. "His wildly romantic engagement and upcoming wedding?" As the woman spoke, the duchess had begun to slowly walk a circle around Alice.

Alice drew herself up, unwilling to show the queen just how much this discovery stung her. She looked at Jack, who was studiously inspecting his feet. "You bastard," she said in a low voice.

The gold-clad duchess approached her front while Alice stood frozen in her shell of anger and betrayal. Standing mere inches away, the taller woman surveyed her like she was a gown fresh from the seamstress, inspecting each and every imperfection. "So, this is..." the woman said softly. Oddly enough, there was no hint of malice in the woman's voice. There was mere curiosity.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is," the queen replied.

The duchess lifted up a gold-spangled wrist to lightly catch the underside of Alice's chin. Her green-hazel eyes continually gazed at her in that curious, scrutinizing manner. "Really? I'm starting to wonder about your tastes, Jack. I mean, if you think she's pretty..." The woman's long, manicured red nails, lightly trailed up the girl's cheek. "What must you think of me?" Though the words belied it, there was still no sign of any anger or spite to the woman's tone. She seemed perplexed enough, but that was all Alice was able to discern from the woman's subtle cues. Whatever this woman was truly thinking, she was quite adept at concealing it. The young Slayer supposed that was a survival trait in this dangerous court.

"He thinks you're the most gorgeous creature in the world," the queen assured the duchess dismissively. "That's why he's marrying you."

The touching was beginning to unnerve and annoy the girl. It made her feel entirely too much like an object. Unable to stop herself, Alice slapped the duchess's hand away from her dark hair. The woman dropped her arm and withdrew from her presence. She sauntered over to Jack's side, artfully wrapping her arms around his shoulder. Alice was struck by how well those two fit together. The duchess was only an inch or two shorter than Jack, and she completely complemented his new look in a way she herself never could. There was no denying this woman was reared in this glittering, aristocratic world. How could she compete, hailing from a world of constant battles and death? A prince and a duchess certainly made for a more sensible pairing than a prince and a Vampire Slayer.

"You see, Alice, my dear," the queen began, walking towards the girl. "Jack has been engaged for months now. His flight through the Looking Glass was no more than a diversion. A stag spree. A wave goodbye to his mischievous youth."

The older woman stopped to stand in front of Alice, not standing nearly as close as the duchess had been, but still too close for the girl's comfort. She chewed on her bottom lip to keep from flinging all the insults and condemnations which were screaming in her skull.

"You're going to tell us where you hid the ring," the queen demanded in a deadly tone. "And then you're going to wish you had never laid eyes on my son."

Alice almost snorted derisively. At least the queen was going to see one of her demands met. The girl already was beginning to wish she had never met Jack.

"Well, I'd better run," Jack suddenly interjected in a rushed tone. He whisked out of the duchess's grasp to insert himself in between his mother and Alice, taking the girl's hands in both of his own. She briefly thought about breaking every bone in his hands with just one squeeze and then quashed the notion. Physically attacking Jack would only provide a weak, superficial satisfaction. It would do nothing to blunt the shredding betrayal tearing through her. She forced herself to glance up at him, seeing the sorrow and regret roiling in his gold-brown eyes. "Good-bye, Alice. I want you to know that I forgive you for taking the ring."

Alice felt something cool, hard, and metallic press into her palm, and she shot Jack a questioning look. He gave the slightest shake of his head to indicate that she was not to ask him any questions. This was something he did not want anyone else to see. Out loud, he merely said in a placating tone, "I know you're upset with me. I don't blame you for that."

He then leaned forward to bestow a featherweight kiss on the crown of her head while whispering, "He's here."

_Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? Who's here? _They were questions she knew she could not ask, but they tumbled around in her mind as Jack pulled away from her, leaving the as yet unknown object hidden in her balled fist. The only possible "he" Alice could think of was Hatter. Panic seized her at the thought of Hatter being in the casino. Had they captured him? And, if they had, why had they not attempted to use his life in exchange for her giving up the ring's location? Hatter's life was the one and only thing that would have made her immediately confess where she had hidden the ring.

No, she did not believe Hatter was here, nor did she think he was the "he" Jack had spoken of. But, as she highly doubted it was Charlie, who else could it be? Alice did not exactly have a lot of acquaintances here in Wonderland.

"Well, goodbye then," Jack told her in a wooden tone. He turned from her then, walking over to the duchess.

"Your Grace," he addressed the lovely woman while inclining his head and holding out his arm. The duchess smiled, and, with nary a second glance at Alice, the two linked arms and ambled out the doors.

The doors slammed shut with a resounding boom, making the girl almost flinch at the finality of it. She gripped the object in her hand, not daring to hazard a peak at it. No one seemed to notice she had it. Alice wanted to be sure it stayed that way.

"Take her to the Truth Room," the queen ordered, her attention directed behind Alice where, as always, Mad March lurked. She grimaced as his iron grip came down upon her upper arm.

Alice realized she was stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place. She could throw everything she had into fighting her captors, but she was not sure at all she could defeat Mad March. In fact, she was practically certain he would crush her in these particular circumstances. Even if she managed to somehow escape him, there were all the armed Suits she would have to attempt to either evade or fight off. She vaguely knew her way back to the lobby area of the casino, but she had no way of knowing which way to go to escape this fortress. The only way out of the building she knew of was back up the way she had come, and that was definitely out of the question.

This so-called Truth Room sounded more like a torture chamber. It was not that she was a stranger to pain. All Slayers had high pain tolerances, for such a thing was all but necessary in their vocation. She could probably withstand physical torture better than most people. The prospect of torture, however, still made her knees feel wobbly. If it were possible, the girl wanted to avoid being tortured.

_It is possible if you misdirect them like you originally planned. You'd be helping yourself and the Resistance out. Just give them the false location you came up with. _

But what would happen to her after that? Essentially, she would be forsaking her one use to the Queen of Hearts after that.

There was no time to consider what would become of her after she fed them the false location. Mad March was pulling her across the floor of the Throne Room, a full complement of Suits seemingly appearing out of nowhere to surround her. Her blood pounded through her arteries at dangerous speeds, the instinct to fight and struggle rising up and tensing all her muscles. They marched her back down the corridor towards the double doors she knew led to that game room full of oysters. It was there that the girl decided to finally chance a glance at the object Jack had surreptitiously slipped into her hand.

She unfurled her fingers to find it was a watch lying in her palm. It was an outdated man's watch with a large, square clock face and a wide linked wrist band. The metal was a dark gun-metal gray. Initially, she stared at it with uncomprehending eyes, wondering what the significance behind an old watch was supposed to be. She wished there had been some way Jack could have been a little more descriptive. After she was certain no one was paying any mind to her studying the object in her hand, she peered closer at the watch. The hour and minute hands were both frozen in time. There was even a little date meter at the top of the clock face. The date read _Mar 23._

March 23rd had been the day her father had mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen nor heard from again.

"_He's here."_

Alice's mind reeled, and had Mad March not been pulling her along, she would have stopped dead in her tracks from total, heart-stopping shock. As it was, her heart merely forgot to thud along for a few beats. She numbly turned the watch over to see the back of the clock face, her hands slick with sweat all of a sudden. Sure enough, inscribed into the metal of the back were the initials R.H.

R.H. for Robert Hamilton, husband of Carol Hamilton and father of Alice Hamilton.

"Dad?" Alice whispered aloud, scarce believing what her eyes were showing her and what Jack had tried to tell her.

This watch belonged to her father. Her father was in Wonderland, in the casino.

Accompanying that revelation were the echoes of the Cheshire's maniacal laughter deep within the recesses of her mind.

* * *

I figured if they have the technology to resurrect a beheaded man and substitute a rabbit cookie jar for his head, they have the technology to juice him up with magical steroids. Seems only logical to me. Actions have to have consequences from time to time.

As to my question pertaining to M-rated bonuses last chapter, I'm happy to see a warm reception to the idea. I cannot tell you when any would be released, but the dream-sequence one would probably be released closer to the end of this story, perhaps after I've already finished it. Thanks for the enthusiasm hehe!


	14. Going Mental

I tweaked this one a bit, of course. Hope you enjoy the walk down memory road hehehe...

* * *

**Chapter XIII: **Going Mental

As Mad March and the posse of Suits marched through the game room, Alice gripped her father's watch like a lifeline. She had barely had time to briefly glance around the poor drugged up souls in the game room to see if any one of them was her missing father. It would not have been likely, she thought, considering that her father had been missing for about eleven years. Certainly he would have been completely drained dry of his emotional capacity. But, then, why would Jack raise up her hopes by slipping her his watch and covertly informing her about her father's whereabouts?

Could she even trust Jack, who had lied about everything to her?

But how would he have acquired her father's watch? For now she could indeed see it was her father's favorite old watch. He had continued to wear it even after it had stopped working simply because it had been a birthday gift from Alice's mother. He would certainly have been wearing it the day he had disappeared. Jack could not have known about this watch even if he had done top notch research. The simplest and most likeliest of explanations was that her father really had been here in this casino the entire time.

_Oh goddammit, why did he spring this on me now? Of all the inconvenient times to bring up my daddy issues..._

Her hand shaking slightly, Alice stowed the watch safely in her pocket. If her father was indeed here in the casino, she would have to figure out what to do about that strange, new development later. There were events in motion that she would have to reckon with first. The sleep she had denied herself the night before was throwing her body into exhausted overdrive. Her mind could not encompass both the knowledge that she might be physically tortured as well as the knowledge that, for the past eleven years, her father had been here in Wonderland. It was all just too much for her to handle at the moment. So, with a deep breath, she forced herself to focus on the matter at hand and pushed all other thoughts and feelings aside.

They were taking her to a place called the Truth Room, which sounded like it was a misnomer for a torture chamber. Alice's abused stomach churned at the realization that, in order to make her eventual confession sound valid, she would have to undergo at least some physical torture. If she blurted out the false information right at the beginning, they probably would suspect it was not true. She would have to make them believe they had pried the location from her through sheer agony.

_The things I do for...what? Why am I doing this? _Hatter's face drifted, uninvited, into her thoughts. Against her better judgment she opened her mind up to the memories of the night before, wishing there was some way she could apologize for everything she had said and done. If only there was some way she could tell him he had been right all along. It _had_ been foolish to try to rescue Jack from the casino, though perhaps not for the exact reasons Hatter had argued. She wondered what he and Charlie were doing now that she was gone.

She wondered if she would ever see them again.

_No, don't think like that. You'll get out of here and see them again once you've given them the false location. After all, you can't get home without the ring and the ring is back with them. _

The girl was jolted out of her thoughts when she was forced to an abrupt halt in front of a large, gray desk where, behind it, sat an extremely bored looking receptionist. The woman did not even look up, preferring instead to file away at her glittering red nails as the Suit at the head of the group inquired as to the availability of the Truth Room. The woman sighed in annoyance at having been interrupted, as if she had been doing something incredibly crucial. Nevertheless, she ruffled through a sheet of papers hidden from view before she told them the room was available and ready. She slid forward a pink sheet of paper and a red pen with none other than a large plastic heart at the end. The entire scene struck Alice as so very ridiculous, she almost laughed.

_Wow, how nice to see they're so bureaucratic about the torture business. _

The door leading to the Truth Room was, ironically, an ordinary single red door. The Suits in front suddenly split to the sides, leaving a pathway for Alice and Mad March, who still gripped her upper arm securely. He walked forward, leading the girl along. Her heart thudded ominously and beads of sweat broke out all over her pale skin. The creak of the door as her captor opened it seemed about ten times louder than what it actually was. She held her breath as he pulled her inside the door. Mad March only took a few steps in before he roughly shoved her forward, almost causing her to fall flat on her face. With his cold, mechanical chuckle sending shivers up her spine, he then turned on his heels and walked back to the slightly ajar door, pulled it open, walked through it, and slammed it shut.

The room looked like no torture chamber she had ever seen. The young Slayer was not even certain she had stepped into a room at all. Black and white lines set into circles grew larger and smaller before her eyes in an endless hypnotic cycle. There was no clear delineation of walls and corners. She may as well have been standing on the ceiling or lying down on the floor. She did a full 360 degree spin, finding no sign of any sort of furnishings, particularly those used in brutal information extraction. Alice did not know whether or not she should be relieved by that.

"Okay...this is weird," she muttered.

Then she felt _them_.

One moment the girl was alone, and the next, she felt two presences suddenly appear behind her. She immediately whipped around. Standing behind her were two men dressed in gray-blue leather jumpsuits with three brown belts across the chest. The pudgy men were as pale as vampires, a feature made even more apparent by the fact that they were completely bald. They were also complete mirror images of each other. The only reason Alice knew there were absolutely two men was because she could sense both of them. If not for that, she could easily have believed she was seeing two images of a single man.

_Holy crap, it's Tweedledee and Tweedledum. _

"I know what you're thinking," one of the men said in an oily, inquisitive voice. "But it isn't so, no how."

Alice did not know quite what to say to that. She decided it was a rhetorical sentence and remained silent, a frown furrowing her brow.

"Contrariwise," the other man intoned, grinning slyly, "if it was so, it could be, and if it were so, it would be, but, as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic."

"Huh?" Alice eloquently replied. She hoped she was not supposed to unravel that in some way because the way her brain had been bamboozled since being in Wonderland did not bode well for riddle-solving.

"I'm Doctor Dee," the man who first spoke informed her, pointing to himself. He then motioned towards his twin. "This is my brother, Doctor Dum."

Alice nodded, unsurprised by the introductions since she had already figured out who the two were supposed to be. She just did not know what they were supposed to do. While it was true their appearances were slightly perturbing, she did not feel exactly threatened by them like with Mad March. She could probably easily knock the two out and escape, provided Mad March was not standing guard outside the door. Unfortunately, the girl suspected that was just what he was doing.

_Just hang out for a bit and see what they'll do. No rash decisions, Alice_, she admonished herself.

"Our job is to open you up, pull everything out," Doctor Dum began, clasping his hands together in front of him and walking toward her other side.

"Until we find the thing we're looking for," Doctor Dee finished, grinning at her madly. The twins chuckled together in unison, their laughter filled with menacing notes.

_Yeah, fuck this. Jump ship. _Alice turned toward where she thought she had come in, but her jaw dropped when she saw there was no longer a door to speak of. There were only the endlessly shifting black and white lined circles.

"We are the only ones who can open the doors from the inside," one of the brothers told her.

Like clockwork, his brother added his own bit. "You shan't go free till we release you, or until someone opens it from outside."

_Seriously, fuck my life._

"Just relax. Let your mind go. Allow yourself to fall into a deep sleep," the brothers urged her in deep, oily tones.

When she turned around, breathing heavily with feelings of rage and fear, she saw that both the twins had disappeared. Their voices echoed in her skull and around the room. It was then that she realized what their method of information extraction was. They did not use physical torture at all. Opening her up and pulling everything out had not been meant in the literal sense. They had been speaking of her mind. The Tweedle twins were going to try to get inside her head and pull out the location of the ring from her memory. She recalled how easily the Cheshire had slipped into her thoughts, plucking out unspoken plans like they were on display at a department store. But the Cheshire was a being of immense power, most likely a god. The Tweedle twins were only men.

Alice drew upon her mental blocks, pulling up random words and images to focus upon like a mantra. "Stay out of my head!" she screamed, clapping her hands to her temples and falling to her knees.

"Oh, now, don't try to shut us out," one of the twins chided.

She sought the image of a safe, imagining the ring's location stored safely in there. Then she tried to picture a wall, a sturdy, impenetrable stone wall circling around her thoughts. This sort of arena had never been her strong suit. She was very much a being of the tangible, physical realm.

"It takes far too much effort," a Tweedle remarked smugly.

"Yes," his brother chimed. "Just give in."

"You're so tired," the other one noted.

Alice _was_ tired, but she was a Slayer. Her stamina could keep her up and running for days without sleep, though she would not exactly be operating at full capacity, so to speak. A fall through a portal vortex, running around a city almost a mile above the ground, then nearly being jabberwock chow had succeeded in sapping even her impressive reserves of energy.

"Oh, how delightful," a Tweedle crooned.

"A challenge," his brother remarked in anticipation.

Alice gritted her teeth as she fought the rising tide of lethargy weighing down her limbs. She felt she would have rather contended with physical torture rather than suffer this invasion of the mind. It was the worst sort of violation imaginable. If she succumbed to sleep, her mind would be left completely open and vulnerable. The Tweedles would pick through it mercilessly until they found the location of the ring.

_No. They must not find that. But I don't know how long I can keep fighting this. _

"Stop fighting it, Alice," one of the twins commanded in an all too persuasive tone of voice.

"No," she cried, shaking her head, her eyes squeezed shut. "I won't let you in. I won't."

But the urge was becoming too strong. Her last desperate ploy was to again bring up the idea of a safe, holding the true location of the ring securely locked away behind its metal doors. She could only hope that would hold, for she could feel her body surrendering to the powerful urge to descend into sleep. Though she railed against it, her body let go of the conscious realm.

When she opened her eyes, Alice was no longer huddling on the floor upon her knees with her hands clasped against her temples. She was standing in the foyer of the house she and her mother shared in Cleveland. The girl was dressed for cold weather with a thick silver and blue Colombia coat, black snow boots with a faux fur lining, and a...well, she had been wearing a red toboggan, but now it was gone. Her coat was also ripped and stained with grime. There were holes in her blue jeans at the knees, and the skin which was exposed was raw with fresh abrasions. Her head stung, too, and there was a peculiar sensation of something wet and sticky coating the right side of her face and neck. When she lifted up a hand to see what it was, she saw that her fingers were dirty, the nails broken and scraped. Her right hand was badly bruised and swelling up.

"What happened to you here?" a voice asked, not sounding concerned, merely curious.

Alice looked up, unflinching, at the sight of the enormous face of a fat, pale bald man staring at her from outside the window next to the front door. The sky outside was not a grim wintry gray, but a swirl of purple and gold with large pink bubbles occasionally appearing behind the man's face.

"I got in a fight," she answered, her tone somewhat dazed. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, seeing that the sticky fluid coating a large portion of her right cheek, lower jaw, and neck was blood from a scalp wound. Strands of dark hair clung to the blood-encrusted parts of her face. Otherwise her skin was as pale as the snow outside. Her blue eyes were rimmed in red and the remnants of salty tears streaked down her cheek.

"How old are you?" the man outside inquired.

"Fifteen," the girl replied. She reached up to lightly touch upon the wound which was just past her hair line and winced at the stinging pain which resulted from her prodding fingers. A fleeting memory of slipping on a patch of ice and smacking her head against rough asphalt came to her.

"Who did you get in a fight with?" he asked serenely.

The girl went rigid with terror, images of strange beings in black robes with X marks over their closed eyes clouding her vision. She remembered the bright silver sheen of their huge curved knives. They had ambushed her when she had cut through an alley way shortcut on her way home from the dojo where she had her lessons in various martial art styles. She had only just managed to escape with her life.

"They tried to kill me," she whispered, her eyes widening.

"Who tried to kill you?"

Alice's bloodied brow knit together as she sought to remember what those beings were. She felt like she had known the answer, _did_ know the answer. But the name of the creatures and the reason they had tried to kill her eluded her for some reason.

She shook her head. "Them. They did. They had big knives, black robes, and slashes over their eyes like X's."

"Hmmm. Why would they try to kill you, Alice?" That man sure had a lot of questions. She was now starting to wish he would just go away.

The girl drew in a tremulous breath of air. "Because of what I am," she said, barely even understanding her own words.

"And what are you, Alice?"

The distraught teenager shook her head again. "I...I don't know. I don't remember," she lamented in a distressed tone.

She glanced down the looming hallway towards her bedroom. "I have to...I have to clean up before Mom sees. I don't want her to worry." She began to walk towards the bedroom, her pace quickening with each step. Gradually, the aches and pains in her body eased until they disappeared altogether upon entering the room.

It was not her bedroom which she entered, however. Now she was standing in the middle of the living room of a different house. It was the house she had lived in with both of her parents when she had been a child. Alice herself had grown younger, her height shrinking and her body shifting backwards through puberty, losing the nascent curves and breasts she had harbored at fifteen. Her outfit had morphed into a quaint blue dress with wide, frilly short sleeves.

The young girl was staring at the sliding wood-paneled door which led into her father's study. She did not often go in there, for when he was in there he was usually working on lesson plans or his research. But, sometimes, whenever Daddy's attention was absolutely required, she would slide that door open and creep inside. Right now, however, a nameless fear was holding her back.

"How old are you?" There was, yet again, the face of a fat bald man staring at her through a circular window. The sky shifted in purple and gold colors behind him.

"Ten," Alice replied, not disturbed in the least that she had lost five years of her age in the space of a few seconds.

"But, you're alone in the house," the man pointed out. "Why have you been left alone?"

A sudden sense of sorrow coupled with desolate loneliness filled her. "Dad's left," she answered, her blue eyes filling with tears. "Mom's asking the neighbor to take care of me so she can go look for him."

"Did he say goodbye?"

The little girl gave a miniscule shake of her head, biting down on her lower lip. "No, he was just...gone. I don't know where he went." She twisted her tiny hands together in front of her nervously. Oh, how she wished her father were here.

The man outside the window spoke up again, his voice softly urging. "Why don't you see if he's left you something in his study?"

This was answered with an emphatic shake of the head and a strangled, "No!" Fear gripped her heart, pushing the little girl back from the door a few steps.

"Why not?" the man asked soothingly.

The girl swallowed. "I'm scared to go in there," she admitted.

"Nonsense," the man scoffed.

Without realizing it, the girl started to take tentative steps towards the door. She grasped the brass circular indentations and slowly slid the doors apart, revealing a shadowed room all but empty save for the strange wooden crib set in the middle of the floor. Alice started advancing towards the crib, her heart pounding away in her chest at what she might find in there. Her face twisted into a frown of confusion when she saw it was a pig wrapped up in a white blanket sitting in the crib.

_What? A pig in a blanket...that doesn't make sense _

Meanwhile, the man outside had been joined by another man to taunt, "Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again."

The voices echoed from all directions, and Alice, back to her twenty-one-year-old self, whipped her neck around trying to follow the giant faces of the men who were circling the room she was in. The doors to the study which she had left hanging open suddenly rolled and slammed shut, startling her into a gasp. The noise, however, had served to wake her up, in a manner. All of a sudden she remembered who those men jeering at her with nursery rhymes were and why she was here. She was in the Truth Room, and these were the Tweedle Twins who were attempting to extract the whereabouts of the Stone of Wonderland from her mind.

_Oh crap, the bastards are in my head. But, wait, I'm awake, though. Or, I think I am..._

The face of each twin filled a long rectangular window on adjacent sides of the room. They peered in at Alice with contorted frowns on their faces which probably meant they were growing impatient with her. The room, which had been so dark before, lit up with the timely appearance of a large, glistening crystal chandelier. The pig in the crib had disappeared altogether. It was just Alice, standing alone in the room upon the long, slim floorboards with the ugly faces of the twins staring at her from their window vantage points.

"Now it's time for a battle!" one twin declared. She had a feeling their idea of battle was somewhat different than her own idea of battle.

"Let's see if we can find a little lever," his brother mused.

"And prize the tasty little oyster open," the other finished, smiling maliciously.

The young Slayer raised up her fists, preparing herself for anything they might throw at her. But then the floorboards started popping out, and the girl thought her heart died within her chest when she saw the gaping holes in the floor reveal a dark, yawning abyss. One by one, every single board fell into the chasm, eventually leaving the one she was standing upon the last remaining one. Terror completely enfolded her. Her chest and abdominal muscles contracted dangerously, squeezing out her own breath and preventing any more from coming in. Her heart raced at unprecedented speeds. How her legs continued to hold her up she did not know because she could no longer feel them from beneath her.

_Ohgodohgodohgod...__must breathe...can't breathe...ohgodohgod..._

Her legs wobbled and she quickly kneeled, throwing her weight forward to grasp the board with both her hands. If she had tried to stand for much longer, she felt she would have lost her balance and fallen to her doom.

"Well, looks like someone has a nasty fear of heights," one of the twins remarked with cold triumph.

"Please! Please, no!" Alice begged. She gripped the board, digging splinters into her hands, as she attempted to work through her panic attack. Her breaths came in quick and shallow, not nearly sufficient enough to provide a body with oxygen. A full scale panic attack was imminent unless she gained a measure of control over the situation.

"It's not real," she whispered to herself between those quick, shallow breaths of air. "It's not real. It's all in my head. It's just a dream." That was true, was it not? They had somehow gotten her to fall asleep in the Truth Room and now they were attempting to sift through her memories to find the treasure. All of this was simply in her head, so nothing could truly happen to her.

She forced her battered mind to repeat those words over and over, slowly winning over her motor control and rising to her feet. She knew the rules about dreams and falling. One always woke up before he or she hit the ground. All she had to do to escape this horrible torment was to jump. Then she would wake up and proceed to break every single bone in those twins' bodies. So, Alice forced herself to stand, instinctively stretching her arms out like she was on a balance beam. Then, very slowly, she started walking toward the end of the board.

"I just have to wake up," she wheezed.

She let her left foot dangle over the edge. Her entire body had gone completely numb save for the tingly sensations traveling up her arms. She breathed in as deeply as she could manage and then took the plunge...

Only to have her natural survival instinct take over, forcing her body to twist in mid-air and latch onto the board. The wood buckled alarmingly under her weight with the added accelerating force of gravity behind it. But, miraculously, it held, leaving the young Slayer with her legs swinging above the black, endless pit below. She could try to fool herself into believing it was a dream to her heart's content. Her bone-deep instincts knew the horrifying truth. This was no dream. If she had really fallen, she would have been smashed to pieces whenever she hit the bottom. Slayers could fall much farther than a normal human, but at heights approaching hundreds of feet, a jump could be just as fatal. And Alice knew this abyss was unfathomably deep. She never did hear those boards hit the ground.

"Jesus Christ! It's real!" she shouted in disbelief.

The twins cackled scornfully.

"Of course it is, silly girl," one of the brothers jeered.

"But," Alice sputtered desperately. "If I fall, I'll die."

"Undoubtedly," one of the Tweedles remarked, loading his voice with false regret.

Though afraid to shift in any way that might make the board crack in half, the girl could no longer withstand the sensation of her legs dangling so freely above the gaping, black hole. So she gritted her teeth and swung her legs up, hooking them up over the board so that she was now hanging on by all four limbs underneath the board. With a heave, Alice flipped herself over so that her entire body was now fully upon the blessed board.

Holding tight to the wood, she pointed out to the Tweedles, "But what about the ring?"

"Oh, we don't really care about the ring," one replied mildly.

"Yes, it's not ours," the other said.

Under different circumstances, the young Slayer may very well have been able to discern if they were bluffing so as to scare her into confessing the ring's location. As it stood, it was all the poor girl's mind could do to keep from breaking down completely. She honestly could not tell if they were serious or not.

"Besides, this is much more fun." That statement was followed by another bout of derisive cackling.

Alice decided to try another tactic. "The queen will be pissed. If you kill me, she won't get her ring."

The laughter ceased, and one of the twins said in a dangerous tone. "Then you'd better tell us where it is."

"Otherwise, we'll just kill you," the other told her in a nasty, serious voice.

"And tell the queen it was an accident," the other added.

"It happens all the time."

Alice shook her head, crying out, "God, you're fucking insane!"

The twins' laughter bounced off the walls, practically booming inside her head. "Clinically," they both chimed together with mad glee.

"I wonder," mused one of the brothers. "I wonder what would happen if that board were to disappear."

_Oh no._

The sharp cracks which followed the Tweedle's words made Alice's blood run ice cold, and the shriek which escaped her lips came out as little more than a strangled gasp. The end of the board was starting to disintegrate before her very eyes. The girl quickly retreated, standing back against the wall with her arms stretched out and flattened against it as the board literally grew shorter and shorter. Within the space of about two seconds, the board had shortened to just barely contain the length of Alice's purple boots.

"Okay!" she screamed. "I'll tell you where it is!" Her mind was far too close to the breaking point to even fathom continuing with this most unusual and cruel of torments.

"Best do it quickly," one of the twins demanded harshly.

"It has a mind of its own," the other warned.

_Great._

"I...uh...have to write it down," Alice told them, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to beat back the rising urge to vomit. "It's...ah...kinda complicated. I'll have to draw a map." She was not being precisely truthful, but she could no longer take the torment. Bile was steadily crawling up her throat, ready to spew out at any moment. She needed something to convince them to lengthen the board or bring the entire floor back altogether.

_What a fine Slayer you are,_ she upbraided herself bleakly.

"Oh, ho hum. Very well, if you must," a Tweedle said resignedly.

A large oak desk materialized into existence right in front of her. There was a sheet of blank white paper and a black ballpoint pen on the desk. The tightness in her chest loosened by the slimmest of margins at the appearance of the desk. Although she would have liked it better if the floor had reappeared along with the desk, she was willing to take whatever she could get at the moment. At the very least, the desk gave the illusion of there being more solid ground even though she figured the thing was probably hovering in the air.

Swallowing her trepidation and distrust of the twins, the girl reached for the pen. She swiftly began to write the address of a safety deposit box in a bank in New York City. The deposit box actually did belong to her, as she had been born in New York City and had resided there for the first two years of her life. She often journeyed there to visit relatives on both sides of the family tree. Alice was giving them a lie sprinkled deviously with a bit of truth.

But would this confession satiate the twins' sadistic desires? They certainly did appear to enjoy tormenting her, intent on breaking her mind down until she was a dribbling idiot. Just because she had given them the thing the Queen of Hearts desired most, did not mean _they_ would stop playing with her. She could be trapped in this endless cycle of torture and agony for an unbelievably long time. Despair rose within her at the thought. Even though she had finished writing the address, she could not make herself put down the pen. She remained leaned over the desk, frozen by hopelessness. How could she ever get out of here on her own? The twins had told her only they could release her, unless someone was compelled to open the doors from the outside. She was not going to hold out for such a prospect. Alice hardly believed there was anyone out there who would have any interest on opening those doors to deliver her from this horrible ordeal.

But the doors did open.

Alice's head snapped up when she heard the rumble of the heavy, wood paneled doors sliding apart. Her jaw dropped in pure amazement when she saw who was standing in the doorway, bracing his arms against the sides in order to keep from tumbling into the endless black pit. Shock, relief, and elation rose up within her. Salty tears suddenly wet her eyes as she stared at the face of a man she had truly thought she would never see again.

"Hatter!" she cried jubilantly. He had come for her! She did not know how he had managed it, but somehow he had slipped into the casino and found her. Suddenly, the despair which had been strangling her resolve was gone, replaced by renewed hope.

"Who is that?" one of the twins demanded furiously.

"Go away!" the other ordered. "This is a private session!"

Hatter ignored them. With one glance at Alice full of more emotion than her mind could possibly comprehend at the moment, he stretched out one of his arms and issued a simple command.

"Jump!"

* * *

Sorry for the delay. I was at my boyfriend's this past week for the wedding of two of his friends and so there really wasn't much opportunity to write.

As always, feedback is much appreciated.


	15. The Art of Rescue

So, this chapter backtracks a bit, meaning it doesn't end exactly where the previous one left off. By the miniseries outline, I suppose one could call this the halfway point of the story, but I reckon with the stuff I'm adding to it, the halfway point is maybe two or three chapters still to come. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter XIV: **The Art of Rescue

The sun had already started edging past its zenith as the jutting height of the Happy Hearts Casino came into view. The towering structure resided far outside the city on the very outskirts of the Tulgey Wood, bordering the northeastern front of the lake. A verdant meadow surrounded the casino, almost offsetting the harsh, unnatural modernity of the bizarre building. Hatter felt his pulse race through his arteries when he saw the bright red lights flashing the enormous words HAPPY HEARTS CASINO. Somewhere, in that garish, uncanny place, Alice was likely digging herself into a hole the depth of which might prove too deep for even a Vampire Slayer to scale. The girl had absolutely no sense of what she was dealing with, and she had far too much brash courage to realize it until it was far too late.

As the two men galloped across the meadow, closing the distance between them and the stronghold of the Hearts, Hatter took a peek up at the sky, his heart sinking when he saw that half the day was gone already. Alice had left the camp hours ago, and there was no telling how much time she had spent inside the casino. The young man swallowed the uprising of anguish which threatened once more to cripple him into a useless heap. He hoped she had not been in the casino for long. The Queen of Hearts was a woman who possessed many things, but patience was not among them. And if there was anyone who was capable of getting under the mercurial monarch's skin, it would be Alice.

_Dammit, Alice! _Hatter silently swore as he dug his heels into Guinevere's sides. The poor mare's coat was lathered with sweat and on a subliminal level he knew he was running the risk of her pulling up lame or becoming overheated. But, such things were not at the forefront of his concerns. He could not spare a thought for the animal when a young woman's life was at stake.

Charlie's voice broke through the silence which had reigned throughout the majority of the journey. There had been little use for speaking when they had been forcing their horses to gallop nonstop at breakneck speeds. "So, what is the plan of infiltrating the enemy stronghold? Must I engage in battle with the dreaded queen's servants to reach the Lady Alice?" The knight's pale blue eyes positively glowed with anticipation at the thought.

Hatter frowned. "Erm...I think it's best if we avoid doing battle as much as possible, Charlie."

The old knight's mustache drooped, a perplexed expression forming on his face. "But...why on earth would we do that? I am a knight, Harbinger! I do not run from a battle!"

Hatter sighed despairingly, rolling his eyes. "It's generally not considered running from a battle if you try to avoid even starting one. And, we don't want to try to start a battle because we don't want to draw too much attention to ourselves. There're only two of us, Charlie," he reminded the older man. "We're here to save Alice, Charlie. We're no good to her if we get ourselves captured or killed, got it?" His dark brown eyes regarded the knight seriously, his hands tightening their grip on the reins.

Charlie pouted for a bit at the thwarted chance of being able to use a sword Hatter gathered had not really been utilized in, well, over a century. Eventually, the knight's shoulders sagged and he relented. "Very well, Harbinger. I will resist the urge to use my vast array of skills in hand-to-hand combat if you think it would better serve my lady."

_I should have knocked him out cold and left him laying there in the forest,_ the young man silently chided himself. He was beginning to worry Charlie's manic desire to act out about 150 years worth of repressed training could compromise the rescue attempt. While he appreciated the knight's enthusiasm during what was, potentially, a suicide mission, he wished the man would act a little more prudently.

"Just let me do the talking, yeah?" Hatter suggested.

Charlie's eyes grew wide. "Talk? You plan on _talking_ your way into the casino?" he asked incredulously.

In spite of the situation, Hatter could not help but chuckle sardonically. "Of course I do. Talking my way into places happens to be a particular specialty of mine." He had already fashioned a semi-plausible cover story for their presence, provided Charlie could be kept quiet and subdued long enough to go along with it.

After what seemed like an agonizingly long time, the two men finally approached the extravagantly constructed building known as the Happy Hearts Casino. The ground level was decidedly plain compared to the upper levels, with a single door opening into the bowels of the casino. It was the perfect place to attempt to break into the building, for it was the least guarded area. There were no guards manning the gated area of the stone wall encircling the casino nor was the gate even locked. With a population mostly hooked on stolen emotions and, therefore, not to be bothered with the doings of the monarchy, the Queen of Hearts had grown lax in some measures of security. Hatter had never been more grateful for such gross negligence.

He dismounted from Guinevere, who whickered almost gratefully at being shed of the weight of a full-grown man. Charlie likewise took to the ground, his armor creaking in tandem with the vertebrae of his spine as he stretched out muscles which were no doubt aching from the arduous journey from the Kingdom of the Knights. Hatter himself felt like his poor backside would never forgive him after sleeping all night on the ground propped up against nothing but a crude wooden fence followed by a normally long journey squeezed into just under two hours upon horseback. But if all that physical discomfort meant he would get to see Alice alive, it would be beyond worth it.

_Please, let us not be too late._

Charlie left the horses untied so they could be free to return home in the event they were not able to escape the casino the same way they had come in...or, on a more pessimistic note, in the event they were unable to escape the casino at all.

"Remember, I'll do the talking," Hatter reiterated. He halted and turned around to face Charlie, eyeing his completely out-of-place plate armor with a doubtful expression. "You just stand there and...well, just stand there and smile and nod."

Hatter drew in a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves and slowly approached the door. He then plastered on a bright smile, smoothing his features to conceal the raging inferno of panic and worry. After a few moments, the door creaked open to reveal a tall, surly, dark-haired Suit with gray spades splattered all over his dark jacket and tie. The man's protruding brow furrowed at the sight of Hatter and the old knight in battered white plate armor hunched over behind him, likely sporting a maddened grin on his face.

"Hi," Hatter greeted cordially.

"Who the hell are you?" the Suit snapped.

"We're the new act," Hatter replied, the words rolling easily off his tongue. "Robinson and...Duckworth." He motioned behind him to Charlie while telling the Suit, "He's Robinson, I'm Duckworth." He set his hands upon his hips, forcing his body language to give off a casual, upbeat appearance. "We're guardians to the mesmeric portals of the cosmos."

"Huh?" The surly countenance was eased by an expression of sheer confusion.

"Stage hypnotists," Hatter clarified, nodding his head agreeably.

Behind him, Charlie murmured in excitement, "This is good fun!"

_Oh bugger it all to hell, Charlie!_ Hatter wanted to shout. Instead he cleared his throat and capped the sudden surge of panic at the fleeting look of suspicion on the Suit's face. "He means the act," he told the Suit, reaching up to grasp his hat. He pulled it off of his head while saying, "It's good fun...when we do it." He then tossed his hat into the air, keeping his gaze squarely upon the Suit's dull gray-green eyes.

The Suit did not even look up at the spinning porkpie hat, nor did he blink an eye when it landed snugly upon Hatter's head. His inscrutable gaze stayed upon them for a moment while Hatter fought to keep his features calm and collected. The man then turned his head, asking someone hidden from view, "Do we have clearance for stage hypnotists?"

_Well, guess it's time to drop the act. _When the man turned his attention back to him, Hatter drew back his infamous Sledgehammer fist and slammed it into the man's face. Like a sack of potatoes, the man hit the floor before blood even began spouting from his completely shattered nose.

Charlie whistled appreciatively. "Well done, Harbinger...but, I...ehm...thought you wanted..." the knight's words were cut short by the appearance of a second Suit, no doubt the partner of the one Hatter had just knocked out cold. The man took one look at his fallen comrade and then reached for his gun, but Hatter was too quick for him. He latched onto the Suit's arm and yanked it away from the side holster. Another swing of his Sledgehammer and that Suit was soon slumped over top of his partner, completely unconscious and likely to have an agonizing migraine when he awoke (in addition to several fractured facial bones).

Hatter stepped over the bodies and quickly scanned the room. Luckily, the two he had put thoroughly out of commission for a lengthy time appeared to be the only two Suits posted there. Once he was satisfied the room was secure, he beckoned to Charlie to follow him towards the staircase at the back of the room. The two men ascended the spiraling stairs which almost appeared to go on forever until they finally came to another door. Hatter tentatively tried the doorknob, hoping he would not have to smash through the wood to get through the door. Such a thing would be extremely likely to attract the attention he was hoping to avoid. Again, luck appeared to be on his side for the time being. The doorknob turned easily and Hatter and Charlie found themselves staring at a square archway opening into a hallway with stone walls the color of gray slate.

Stepping cautiously out into the walkway, Hatter turned left and right, trying to get his bearings. He had only actually been inside the casino a few times before, and he had not exactly been given the opportunity to thoroughly explore it then. A few diamond girls dressed in their glossy white outfits with the glittering red diamond emblems walked past and he dutifully put his hand to his hat and nodded with a mumbled, "Ladies" as a greeting. He remained completely silent when two Suits brushed past him, his heart speeding up dangerously. The men barely spared him a glance, however, and continued on their way.

Hatter walked towards Charlie, who had started wandering down the hallway in the opposite direction, an awestruck expression on his face.

"Okay, we're in. But we don't have much time. We should split up and search intermediate floors," Hatter instructed, his voice sounding surprisingly calm in spite of the anxiety which was starting to seep into his system again. He turned around to start making his way towards the staircase further down the walkway.

"Why?" Charlie asked in confusion.

Hatter halted in his tracks, turning around and facing Charlie, exasperated. "Why?" he repeated through gritted teeth. "Because we don't know where she is."

Charlie waved his hand dismissively at the younger man, turning away and lightly pressing his fingers to his temples. His voice once more descended several octaves in pitch so that it sounded more like an ominous groan than anything remotely human. "I shall reach into the mist to lift the heavy veil that shrouds the oracle."

"Charlie!" Hatter hissed, frustration mounting. "We don't have time for that nonsense!" More importantly, if the knight was going to suddenly start demonstrating his total lack of sanity in broad daylight within the domain of the Queen of Hearts, they would most definitely draw the attention of the Suits.

The maddened old knight ignored him as he started spouting out strange, unintelligible words like a mantra, his body weaving back and forth as if it were a tree bending with the wind.

"Charlie, what are you doing?" Hatter whispered furiously. He frantically glanced around to see if any of the Suits had taken notice of them.

His lunatic of a companion then drew in a raspy gasp of air and whipped around as fast as lightning. His arm shot out, prominently displaying his outstretched index finger while he spouted off a slew of directions in one breath. "Down here! Take the second left at the stairs that lead up to the third floor, then after the double doors take the third walkway on the right over to the Fitness Center to Reception B and ask Sheila!"

Hatter blinked, utterly astounded and more than a little perplexed. "Sheila?" he asked.

The knight looked over at him, his brow drawing together in a frown. "Or is it Shakina? Well, no matter. Come along, Harbinger! The Lady Alice awaits our rescue!" Charlie then strode confidently down the hall, not even looking back to see if Hatter had heard and understood his directions.

Hatter could only stare after Charlie's distancing figure in total bafflement for a few seconds before he finally decided that crazy magical directions were better than no directions at all. He ran to catch up to the knight, who was already rounding the corner ahead. One of these days, he was going to have to figure out how that man remained so spry after living for over a century.

"My connection to the all-seeing oracle tells me the lady is trapped in the Room of Truth," Charlie informed Hatter.

"The Room of Truth?" Hatter repeated blankly. Something sounded very familiar about that name, but he was too intent on trying to keep up with Charlie while keeping an eye on the people around them for his brain to make the proper connections.

"Yes," Charlie confirmed. "That doesn't sound very bad, does it?"

"Um...I don't know," Hatter murmured absently. Finally, the words rearranged themselves in his mind and he almost froze in place, so overcome by dread and horror had he become at the revelation. _Oh god, it's not the Room of Truth she's in...it's the bloody Truth Room!_

Though he had never had the misfortune to ever be landed in the room himself, he had heard enough terrible stories about the Truth Room to know it was one of the absolute worst places to end up short of the executioner's block. It was the domain of the sadistic doctors known as the Tweedle Twins, two of the most twisted individuals to ever walk upon the face of Wonderland. They could give Mad March a run for his money in sheer, gratuitous cruelty. What made them so terrifying was their ability to reach into the mind of a person and wade through it until they found one's deepest, darkest fears. They would then torment said person by exploiting that fear until the poor soul was completely driven to drooling insanity. It was the queen's main method of forcing information out of some of the more stubborn individuals, such as those who did not appear to quake enough at the idea of physical torture. The simplicity of the method was almost as brilliant as it was brutal.

"That's actually very bad, Charlie. Very, very, very bad," Hatter moaned, quickening his pace.

The two men eventually came up to a large gray desk where a brass name plate sat on the top with the name _Sheila_ printed in large red letters. Hatter could not summon the will to be pleasantly surprised by Charlie's accuracy, for it meant that he was probably also accurate about where Alice was.

The woman behind the desk was one of those over-painted diamond girls all dressed in white and glittering red. She was absently leafing through a magazine, pausing only to lift up a hand to cover a bored yawn. However dull the magazine appeared, it must have been stimulating enough to keep her from so much as briefly glancing up whenever Hatter announced his presence with a very impatiently inflected, "Excuse me?"

"How can I help you?" the diamond girl responded in a way which suggested she was clearly uninterested in doing anything of the sort.

Hatter paused as he decided how best to word his request, for he did not wish to actually give away that he was seeking out an oyster named Alice. Doing so might set off alarm bells. "We're...uh...looking for the Truth Room," he ventured hopefully.

Charlie nodded with approval, patting Hatter on the back.

The woman sighed, setting down her magazine and reaching for a pink sheet of paper. "It's occupied at the moment," she informed Hatter before picking her magazine back up.

_Occupied...oh no. _His stomach twisted forebodingly. "Um...well, could you still point us in the right direction? So we can...wait outside, maybe, yeah?" he implored her, attempting a charming smile which usually worked wonders with the female sex. Of course, it only really worked if said member of the female sex was actually willing to look up at him. Sheila seemed perfectly content to keep her eyes firmly glued to the magazine.

She did, however, point them left and say, "Go straight down the hallway and take the fourth set of double doors at your left. The door to the Truth Room is the single red door which will be on your right."

Hatter breathed a sigh of relief and with a hurried, "Thanks!" he and Charlie shot down the hallway as the receptionist had directed them.

Just as they had been told, there was a single unlabeled red door situated on the right side of the corridor they entered. Hatter had been bracing himself for the possibility of Suits standing guard at the door, but, much to his surprise and relief, there were none. A few casino workers were walking through the corridor from various directions, but none of them seemed even remotely interested in the red door. Every single one of them walked past it as if it did not exist.

Hatter and Charlie screeched to a halt in front of the door. The younger man reached out to grasp the doorknob, his heart clambering terribly with a contradiction of emotions. He was relieved beyond measure to have finally reached the place where Alice was being kept. But he was also filled with fear at the thought of what had become of her at the hands of the Tweedle Twins. There was no telling what state her mind would be in after suffering through their malicious games. He hoped they were not too late.

"What are you waiting for, Harbinger? The lady is beyond the door waiting for us!" Charlie urged him.

He turned the knob, surprised at how easily it rotated. The door creaked portentously as it slowly swung inward. At first, there was nothing but shifting black and white circles with no sound or sight of Alice or the Tweedles. The delicate hairs at the nape of Hatter's neck rose up, sending prickles of dark intuition down his spine. He took a hesitant step into the strange room, his entire body tensed and primed for any sign of movement.

"What strange manner of magic is this?" he heard Charlie inquire from behind him.

Before Hatter could answer, he made a step forward across what must have been some kind of invisible threshold. The scene abruptly changed before his eyes into what appeared to be the entranceway of someone's home. He instinctively froze, momentarily stunned by the rapid change of his surroundings. A large mirror stood against the wall from where he stood, displaying his dumbfounded reflection. A few small portraits also lined the wall, framed in dark mahogany. Hatter gasped when he drew closer to the portraits. They were portraits of Alice, albeit a slightly younger version of her. Her cheeks were rounder and her bright blue eyes seemed lighter, more carefree. But it was still unmistakably Alice, done in the most exquisite detail he had ever seen. One of the portraits featured Alice as well as a lovely older woman with the same bright blue eyes, but lighter brown hair. The woman must have been her mother.

The sight of Alice made his heart ache anew. He lightly brushed his fingers over the girl's grinning face before turning away to continue searching for her.

He began walking down the hallway, not really knowing where else he should go. The scene warped yet again, the walls and flooring changing into a different home setting. Varnished wood became thick beige carpet, the lighting grew dimmer, and the atmosphere grew heavier, almost more sinister. Again there were those extremely detailed portraits, only this time the girl featured in them was a child. Hatter then realized what was happening. The portraits from before showed Alice as a teenager, and now they were showing her as a child who had not yet reached adolescence; perhaps nine or ten years of age. He was delving deeper into Alice's memories, following the trail the Tweedles had already forged.

One thing he vaguely noticed was that some of the portraits had three people in them. The new person was a middle-aged gentleman with curly brown hair and a beard whom Hatter presumed was Alice's father. He idly wondered why he had not seen the man in the portraits of her from her teen years, but dismissed the question as completely irrelevant to the situation. He mentally chastised himself for getting distracted while exploring her memories. None of these things were real, anyway; they were mere projections of Alice's mind. What significance they bore to the Tweedles, he did not know. All he should be doing was trying to find Alice and rescue her from their clutches before they destroyed her mind completely.

He scanned the room, his gaze falling upon a set of wood paneled doors drawn together. He crossed the room and deftly slid the doors apart, his breath held at what he might find behind the doors.

The first and only thing he saw was Alice, for nothing else mattered to him at the moment. Instinctively, he stepped forward to go to her, but that plan was quickly abolished when he realized there was no floor, only a gaping, dark abyss. He immediately drew back from the black chasm staring back at him and braced his arms against the doorway.

"Hatter!" he heard Alice cry. Her voice, filled with giddy relief, joy, and shock, was one of the most beautiful things he had heard in his life. He looked up, drinking in the sight of her, alive and relatively unharmed. A few tears were slipping down her stark white face. She was standing behind a desk which hovered in midair, poised over it with a pen in her hand. He had no idea what she was standing upon, but apparently it was the only remaining solid bit of floor left in the room. He remembered how she had cowered against the ladder back at his shop when faced with the extreme heights of the city. True to form, the Tweedles had slithered into her mind and found the girl's greatest fear, and they were tormenting her with it.

"Who is that?" Hatter directed his attention up above Alice to follow the voice. The face of an enormous, pudgy bald man with paper white skin glared furiously at Hatter. In the adjacent window was a veritable copy of that man, obviously his twin. They were the Tweedles.

"Go away!" the other one bellowed angrily. "This is a private session!"

He paid the two no mind, extending one arm out and leaning forward to beckon to Alice. His eyes darted up to the chandelier providing the illumination in the room and then back to Alice, who was staring at him with an expression of hope mingled with dread on her face. There was only one way they could get her out of this, and Hatter knew she was not going to like it one bit. She was going to have to leap across the room.

"Jump!" he shouted. Much to his amazement, Alice nodded and climbed atop the desk.

The Tweedles wailed out protests in raucous voices. "Get rid of him!" one ordered, ostensibly to Alice, who was patently ignoring him.

With a deep breath, Alice leapt up to latch onto the chandelier and swung herself like a gymnast, sending her sailing the rest of the way across the room into Hatter's waiting arms. For the brief instant he held the girl in his arms, Hatter felt the jabbing, painful knots in his gut disappear. He had never felt such an overwhelming feeling of relief in his life; it almost made him feel like weeping himself. It did not faze him one bit when the Tweedles starting shouting for reinforcements. Now that he had Alice safely in his arms, he almost felt like he could take on an army of Suits.

He lowered Alice to the floor, her entire body shaking with adrenaline. Now that he could have a closer look, he hastily looked her up and down for any sign of injury, and was content to find nothing save the wound she had acquired the day before from the jabberwock pit. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse all of a sudden with the weight of so many overwhelming feelings.

"Oh my god! I can't believe you're here!" she exclaimed. "How did you find me?"

"I don't know. Charlie's sort of running the show," Hatter answered honestly. He grabbed her hand and started leading her back through the room and down the hallway where Charlie was busy running his hands against the walls while humming to himself as if it were all some casual little exploratory venture rather than a dangerous rescue mission.

"Charlie!" Alice shouted.

The knight beamed when he saw her. "My lady! It is wonderful to see you well!" he responded, offering a courtly bow. "Believe it or not, we are in your head!" He grinned in excitement.

"Yeah, I know. Not the best place to be," the girl said dryly. "But they said they're the only ones who can open the doors..." She stopped speaking when Charlie opened a door which led to the hallway outside the Truth Room.

Alice's jaw dropped. "What the hell?" she sputtered, her face darkening with ire.

Hatter shrugged. "Guess they lied to you," he remarked wryly.

They pelted down the walkway as they retraced the path they had taken to reach the Truth Room. Their frantic, hurried exit startled Sheila into actually standing up and gawking at them, but Hatter did not think it wise to take the time to thank the unwitting receptionist. He only hoped she would not suffer any consequences for inadvertently helping them steal an oyster captive away from the Queen of Hearts.

The desperate gambit in rescuing Alice from the Tweedles had succeeded, but it had also succeeded in alerting the entire casino guard of their presence. When Hatter, Charlie, and Alice reached the main hallway where the two men had originally entered the place, they found a legion of Suits effectively blocking off their intended exit. They had spilled into the walkway and were headed straight towards the three of them.

"Um, okay, Plan B," Hatter mumbled breathlessly. There really had not been a Plan B, but the man was astute enough to figure out if the bottom exit was blocked off, the only way to go would be up. He felt Alice hesitate beside him as he started to turn about. For a second he feared she was actually planning on taking on the entire group of Suits. But, as soon as the shiny ceramic ears of Mad March appeared, he felt her tense up beside him, her grip becoming almost painfully tight. He sensed a strange frisson of fear run through her, but now was not the time to question her about it.

"Shit," she cursed.

"Oh, no you don't. Now's not the time to pick a fight, Alice." Hatter yanked her back, surprised at how easily she gave way. "Come on! The elevator!" he shouted to his two companions. They ran for the shiny chrome doors, which had, most auspiciously, just opened to allow a few diamond girls off. The girls shrieked in dismay as they were rudely pushed aside by the fleeing trio, just barely making it inside the doors before they slammed shut with a resounding _DING!_

Hatter immediately jabbed his thumb against the button for the roof, hitting it a few times just for good measure and praying no one else would try to get on the elevator.

"Up?" Alice gasped, her fingernails digging into Hatter's hand. "Why are we going up?" Panic filled her voice.

"Do we have a choice?" Hatter snapped, his tone coming off more annoyed than he intended. He then realized what "up" meant to Alice. It meant more heights, and the poor girl had probably dealt with more heights than she could handle today. "I'm sorry, but it's the only other way out."

"Alice of Legend," Charlie intoned, his voice deep and filled with veneration. "Your presence in this world is no accident. You were brought to Wonderland for a reason!"

The girl responded with an ironic snort and a roll of her tired blue eyes. "Apparently that's the consensus."

Hatter's brow furrowed at that remark.

"My Lady! I shall stand at your side!" the old knight declared reverently. "Shoulder to shoulder! Knee to..."

"Charlie!" Hatter cut in. "Now's not the best time!"

Alice fidgeted at his side, no doubt fretting over the fact that there would be yet more heights to contend with. "I can't believe you guys came after me," she murmured, shaking her head. Hatter noticed a tear slip down her cheek. "You could have been killed."

He felt his heart roll over at that remark of concern. But then an important issue fought its way to the forefront of his concerns, having been pushed aside in favor of Alice's safety. The Stone of Wonderland. He had to know if it was still safe. He recalled the image of seeing her poised over the desk, pen in hand. A shot of fear went through him.

"Alice, did you give up the ring?" he inquired sharply.

The girl shook her head and said very quietly, "No, I fed them a false location. I never did intend to hand it over, Hatter."

At first he was relieved to hear the ring was still safely out of the queen's grasp. Then the significance of her words struck home and his jaw dropped. "You were going to bluff the Queen of Hearts?" Each word was punctuated by a pause as he tried to wrap his head around the sheer audacity of such an act.

The girl did not answer, but shuffled her feet guiltily.

"Bloody hell! Alice, did you stop to consider what would happen to you when she found out? Did you try to cut a deal with a bluff? Did you honestly think she was just going to send you and your boyfriend home without getting her hands on the ring first?" he spouted, his words lashing out all the pain and fear he had suffered when he had discovered her absence that morning.

That was another thing which suddenly came to Hatter's attention: Alice's boyfriend Jack Chase. There had been no sign of the man. Alice had been alone in the Truth Room.

"Try ex-boyfriend," the girl spat bitterly. "The son of a bitch is the son of the Queen Bitch."

That statement took a few seconds to decipher. When he figured out what she meant, his eyes widened and his jaw went slack. His brain felt like it had almost flipped over at that revelation. "The prince?" he said obtusely. The girl nodded, but his wish to remain in close contact with common sense completely decried the notion.

"Jack Heart?" he asked, completely incredulous.

Alice glanced away from him then, a sense of shame overcoming her.

"Jack Heart is your boyfriend?" he asked, still not able to make himself accept it. The idea was so implausible, so completely out of tune with reality that there was no possible way it could be true. There had to be some kind of trick behind this. But then something clicked into place. Alice had gotten the ring from her boyfriend, and Hatter had wondered how it was possible for an oyster to get hold of the ring much less know of its existence. Perhaps the answer _was_ that it had been no oyster that had stolen the ring from the queen and given it to Alice. Perhaps it really had been someone who had almost unlimited access to the enchanted piece of jewelry.

_God, it makes a sick sort of sense..._

"He's not my boyfriend anymore, I assure you. The lying asshole," Alice grumbled, betraying the deep hurt she felt over her former lover's deception. Hatter felt his heart flare defensively for her. What kind of a man would lie so completely to her, make her into a veritable target, and then cast her away to deal with his mother's notorious lack of mercy? A man who needed a personal meeting with the Sledgehammer, that was who, Hatter decided.

Before anything else could be said on the matter, however, the elevator finally reached the rooftop and the doors slid apart. Unfortunately, it seemed the rooftop escape would not be without its own trouble. Four Suits had been standing guard on the roof, and had turned at the sound of the elevator doors opening. The gray spade emblem along with the large letter A stood out upon their lapels. They were all Aces, which meant they were more formidable than the average Suit.

"Oh dear," Charlie remarked.

With no other choice, the trio rushed at them. Hatter and Alice split ways to come at the men from opposite sides. Hatter must have been deemed the most dangerous opponent, since two Suits broke off to face him. They were at too close of range for their guns to be effective, so the men resorted to swinging their fists and legs. He ducked the first one's attack, but the other one's fist came barreling into his jaw. Pain burst through his skull, but he shook it off well enough to evade a second blow to his temple by rolling underneath the Ace's arm. He cocked his fist and drove it into one of the Ace's knees. The kneecap crunched underneath his Sledgehammer, and the Ace let loose a bloodcurdling howl of agony and toppled over. With that man thus incapacitated, he rose to deal with the remaining Ace.

This one proved to be more stubborn than his partner. Every swing Hatter threw at him, the man seemed able to evade and follow up with a kick or jab of his own. The Ace backed him up to the walled ledge, his hand lashing out to grab Hatter by the throat. The teashop owner was forced to bend over the wall backwards as the Ace squeezed his fingers, cutting off the precious oxygen traveling down Hatter's trachea.

"Hatter!" he heard Alice cry out from a distance.

With a groan, he whipped his fist out and slugged the Ace in the ribs. Sharp cracks followed the hit and the Ace released him, doubling over in pain. Hatter took the opportunity to then drive the Ace's head up against the wall. He caught a glance of Alice, staring at him with wonder and admiration. She was standing back, obviously seeing he could handle himself well enough without her help. He then wiped the blood seeping from a cut on his inner lip. With a ridiculous desire to show off to the young lady in the blue dress, he picked up his hat from where it had fallen in front of the wall and held it before the thoroughly disoriented Ace's face. He then flicked his wrist, sending the hat twirling in the air as he slammed his fist into the man's face, sending him to the ground, unconscious. He then caught the spinning hat with his other hand and secured it back on his head.

Turning to Alice, he proffered a dramatic bow. "My lady," he said, adopting Charlie's lingo.

Alice merely smirked, but it did not diminish the wonder gleaming in her eyes. "Showoff," she quipped in an affectionate tone.

The two Aces that had squared off against Alice and Charlie both lay in unconscious heaps on the rooftop. It seemed Alice had also taken pity on the Ace with the shattered kneecap because he was also lying in oblivion on the ground instead of moaning in pain. Hatter was sorry he had missed the show of Alice's fighting prowess, but he was at least glad they were temporarily free of pursuit. Now all they had to do was figure out how to get off the rooftop. He scanned the area for anything useful and found several pink contraptions lining the edge of the rooftop. Hatter grimaced, already knowing what Alice's reaction would be.

"Now what?" Alice asked, glancing up at the sky and around the rest of their surroundings.

"We get on one of those," he replied, motioning towards the pink contraptions. "Come on."

They ran over to the contraptions. Upon closer inspection, they found that the things were actually shaped like flamingoes.

Charlie clapped his hands with excitement over the vehicles, obviously delighted by the engineering. "Articulated birds of the Empyrean! What genius!" he gushed. Unlike Alice, who was eyeing them with blatant distrust, the knight wasted no time in hopping on one of them.

Hatter swung his leg over the side of one and began searching the device for a way to start it. Alice stayed a healthy distance back from it.

"Wait a minute...do these things _fly_?" she asked pointedly.

"Um, yeah," Hatter replied quickly. "Look, we don't have time to think about it, Alice. We need to go."

"No, I am _not_ getting on that thing," Alice asserted resolutely. She took a few steps back.

"Alice, you don't have a choice!" Hatter pleaded. He held out his hand, his eyes begging her to trust him and heed his pleas.

The stubborn girl shook her head. He could hear her breathing pick up its pace. "No, you don't understand...I can't," she whined.

He knew the Tweedles had tortured her enough with this deep-seated phobia of hers, but time was of the essence here. Her fear of heights would have to be put aside for the sake of survival.

"It's perfectly safe!" he insisted with more conviction than he truly felt.

At this moment, Charlie, who had been poking around his own contraption, must have found the button or lever which turned the contraption on. In an instant, the motorized flamingo roared to life and zipped off the rooftop into the air with surprising speed. Hatter choked back his shock as he watched Charlie fly off into the distance and looked over to Alice. Her expression was twisted with horror.

"Safe-ish," he corrected himself sheepishly.

"Look, I have a thing about flying," she explained hotly.

Several loud cracks split the air and they both turned. Suits were coming onto the rooftop, and many had their firearms out and aimed for the duo at the edge of the roof. One of the bullets flew dangerously close to Alice, who must have sensed the danger somehow and bent back just in time. The girl clenched her fists and glanced back and forth between the steadily approaching army.

"Yeah, well I have a thing about bullets!" Hatter retorted. "Look, I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think it'd be all right. Just trust me, yeah?" He once more held out his hand.

"Fuck...all right," the girl relented. She got on the contraption behind Hatter and wrapped her arms around his waist while burying her face into his shoulder.

Hatter hit the button and then they were careening off into the air at an incredible speed. Once they were airborne, Alice's arms tightened around him, inadvertently using a bit too much of her vast reservoir of strength.

"Alice," he choked out as her grip started inhibiting his ability to draw breath. "I...need...air."

"Oh, sorry!" Her hold loosened, but only enough so that he could breathe. She still held on with uncomfortable force.

Silence reigned for a few moments before the matter of the identity of Alice's boyfriendcame back to his attention. The idea that she had been dating the Prince of Hearts irked him to the core. A prince. She had been the lover of a bloody prince! It did not seem to matter at the moment how angry she was with this man or how much she asserted things were over; what mattered was that she had had a taste of royalty. In Hatter's experience, once someone had a taste of royalty and power, they were not likely to seek out anything below that. Against his better judgment, he allowed his dismay and jealousy take hold.

"So, what, was it his lofty airs and graces that hooked you in?" he asked acerbically.

"Huh?" was Alice's muffled reply, for her face was still buried in his leather clad back.

"Jack," he flatly stated.

He felt her face slide up from its position against his back. "What? He doesn't have airs and graces..." she said defensively.

"Well, what was it then?" he asked, suddenly desperate to know what particular qualities this snake of a man had possessed (or, at least, faked) to attract Alice into a relationship.

Alice huffed in amazement. "Hatter, I would be more than happy to discuss my deplorable taste in men with you, but, for the moment, can we focus on not falling out of the sky and dying?"

That sounded reasonable enough, and he contritely nodded his head and focused his attention ahead of him.

_What the hell just came over me? That was bloody stupid. _

Charlie must have somehow figured out how to adjust the speed of the contraption, for they eventually caught up to the wildly singing knight. The old man was definitely having a far more pleasant time than Hatter, and most definitely more so than Alice.

"We are angels!" the knight sang when he caught sight of them. "The wind and clouds at our command! Oh, heavenly joy!"

"Oh, fuck you," he heard Alice mumble sullenly against his back. Hatter could not help but chuckle a little at her resentment towards the old knight, who was clearly having a grand old time thousands of feet in the air upon a flying motorized flamingo.

Whatever spirits had been raised by Charlie's effervescent mood were sent hurdling back down again when the trio heard a mixture of rumbling noises and gunfire from behind. They all glanced behind them to see two Aces upon their own flamingo contraptions, aiming firearms at them and firing without hesitation.

"Shit!" Hatter swore violently, turning back to the contraption and searching for a button which controlled speed.

Bullets whizzed past them, and Hatter was horribly aware that Alice was pressed against his back, which effectively protected him from the small, deadly projectiles, but did nothing for her. His heart began to pound painfully at the thought of her getting hit, and he frantically quickened his search for something which could put more distance between them and their pursuers.

He and Alice both flinched when they heard the sound of one of the bullets striking metal. One of the Aces had hit Charlie's bird. Smoke poured out of the contraption. "I'm going down!" Charlie shouted in a voice which, oddly enough, did not sound terrified in the least. His bird started steeply diving for the lake waters below.

"No!" Alice cried out.

"Charlie!" Hatter yelled in horror.

The knight and his contraption soon disappeared with a giant splash into the lake. Hatter felt his heart drop like a stone. There was no way Charlie could swim out of there; not with all that heavy armor weighing him down. Guilt, horror, and grief assailed him. It was his fault the mad old knight had come to the casino in the first place.

_Oh, why didn't I just knock him out cold?_

The shots continued, and Hatter tried to erratically maneuver the bird around as best he could in an effort to evade the bullets. For the most part, it seemed to work, but one bullet was all it would take to completely ruin the escape. Soon enough, one of the Aces scored another lucky shot and their own contraption started violently shaking as the engine gave out.

Alice screamed as the nose dive commenced.

"Hold on!" Hatter yelled just before the two crashed in a spray of pearly foam and sunk beneath the murky waters.

* * *

This chapter was originally much _much_ longer, but I split it in half. Anyway, I hoped you all liked it and I want to also take the time to thank all those who have added me to their alert lists and/or their favorites list!


	16. Slippery When Wet

Time to step back and just appreciate a nice, dripping wet Hatter...*sigh*.

* * *

**Chapter XV: **Slippery When Wet

The impact with the water was nothing like Hatter had ever felt. For being a liquid, it jarred him relentlessly, and the rapid change of temperature stung through his skin almost to the bone. He and Alice were ripped apart by the force of the impact. He flailed his arms around as his body was spun around in the aquatic environment, desperately trying to figure out which way the surface was so he could take a breath of air. For a moment, it seemed the surface would be impossible to reach for all he could see around him was murky darkness punctuated by bubbles. His head started to throb from the lack of oxygen.

Hatter allowed instinct to reorient his body and then he kicked his legs, finally breaking the surface with a triumphant gulp of air. Much to his horror, it appeared that Alice had not found the surface. He spun around in the water, continually moving his arms and legs to keep his head above the surface as he scanned the area for any sign of the dark-haired oyster girl. Panic flooded his system. What if she had hit her head or had become trapped underneath the flamingo? Moreover, how would he find her in the lake's dark depths in time? Had he gone through all that effort to save her from the casino only to lose her to drowning?

"Alice!" he screamed, his voice roughened by the cold water.

_Oh god...no...come on, Alice. Don't do this to me. _

Just as he was about to dive under again, something broke through the surface a few feet away from him. He blinked in surprise when he saw it was his hat, held up by a slender white arm. Eventually, Alice's beautiful face appeared, spitting out water and sucking in air. When she saw Hatter, a relieved smile broke out on her face and she swam over to his currently shell-shocked form.

"I saved your hat," she informed him through chattering teeth.

For a split second, all he wanted to do was press his lips up against hers. He had truly thought she was dead for a few seconds, and the feelings it had engendered within him had been gut-wrenchingly horrible. But then he got a grip on himself and his wayward feelings, swallowing the lump in his throat.

His smile was brittle, but warm as he took the hat from her. "Well, that's the important thing," he tried to joke, his voice trembling a little.

They swam towards the rocky shoreline and stumbled up onto dry land. Hatter collapsed to his feet as exhaustion from the day's events and his own emotional turmoil overcame him. The rough gravel bore into his skin through the sodden fabric of his pinstriped trousers, but he could not bring himself to care.

Alice crouched next to him, obviously concerned. "Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed with worry. Water dripped down her neck to bead at the hollow of her throat before it disappeared underneath the high décolletage of her dress.

_The pretty girl in the very wet dress has returned_, his libido noted approvingly.

"Um, yeah, just need to rest for a bit," he assured her, endeavoring to look anywhere but at her chest for the time being. He tightly clasped the brim of his hat in his hand.

Alice rose to her feet, her gaze turned to the water. "Shit, Charlie!" she blurted. "Do you think he made it out?"

Hatter sighed and ducked his head down, the guilt and sorrow returning. While he very much doubted the 150-year-old knight could have possibly been able to break the surface and swim to shore underneath all that steel armor, he felt it would be cruel to crush Alice's tender hopes to pieces. Therefore, all he did was shrug helplessly and say, "I don't know...maybe." He then craned his neck to look up at the sky, expecting to see the flying Aces up there. The sky was blessedly empty save for the white fluffy clouds, but that did not mean they would not show up sooner or later. They would have to seek out cover.

"We need to get off this beach," Hatter said as he heaved himself to his feet. "We're sitting ducks here."

Alice nodded in agreement, but her gaze was still forlornly stuck on the lake. His heart went out to her, for he knew she was probably feeling the same sense of guilt that he was. He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, we'll look for Charlie along the way, okay?" he suggested.

"God, I hope he's okay. I'll never forgive myself if something's happened to him," Alice lamented.

They started walking along the beach, the previously lukewarm air suddenly very cool to their damp bodies. Hatter shook his hat out and then put it back in its rightful place upon his head.

"Where is the ring, Alice?" he ventured.

"Back at camp," she answered softly.

Hatter halted in his tracks, his expression completely thunderstruck. "You never even brought it with you?" he asked incredulously.

Alice stopped, but did not turn around. She shook her head, remaining silent.

"Alice..." he began, but trailed off when he did not quite know what to say. He had thought the only thing she had wanted since the beginning of her time here in Wonderland was to find her boyfriend and get back home. The ring was the only key to achieving that. Why would she have left the one thing which could deliver her fondest wish behind her and then put herself in mortal danger? At the very least, she could have taken the ring to break into the place where the Looking Glass was kept and use it to go back home by herself. But instead she had chosen to go the casino without the ring and apparently without the intention of betraying its true location. Just what had been her plan?

"I...I couldn't take it," she finally admitted. She was still stubbornly determined not to face him. For his part, Hatter was torn between staying where he was and walking up to her to wrap her in his arms.

"But...I thought..." Hatter shook his head. He thought he had known where the girl stood on matters, but now he was beginning to see he may have been sorely mistaken.

"Look, I'm just one person. And...well, of course things with Jack have changed, but before I knew the truth, I realized even then that he is also just one person," she explained, slowly turning around. Her gaze was cast downward and she wrapped her arms around herself. "Our lives...my wish to just be home again...well, it didn't seem worth the lives of all those hundreds of refugees." She was quiet for a moment before she looked up at Hatter. He felt his breath still at the cataclysm of emotions in her blue eyes. "It didn't seem worth _your_ life."

A feeling of hope surged through him, but it was darkened by the subtext in her words. "So, wait, what were you planning to do, then?" he asked.

Alice drew in a deep breath. "Well, I was going to try to negotiate with the queen at first, if only for Jack's release. I knew I needed the ring to work the Looking Glass. I guess I thought if my original plan succeeded, Jack and I could have at least somehow made it back here and then used the ring to get back home. I don't know. I was just trying to focus on getting him out of the casino so I didn't think about much else. Poor planning on my part, I guess. But, when I found out that he was a lying, conniving bastard and didn't really need my rescuing at all, I had to...adjust my plans somewhat." He saw her hand reach up to caress the right side of her dress where he noticed, for the first time, a small bulge resided.

"Um, so, I figured, at the very least, I could...misdirect them," she quietly told him, her skin flushing slightly.

"Come again?" Hatter's voice turned very icy as he started to grasp what her plan had been.

She looked away, biting down on her lip. "I let them take me to the Truth Room so I could essentially send them on a wild goose chase. I told them the ring was back in my world, so, hopefully, they'll stay off your backs. Well, if they buy it, that is."

Hatter weakly shook his head. "You weren't really negotiating with the queen anymore, then? You were..." he could not say the words. The thought was too horrible to contemplate.

Alice held up her hands helplessly. "What else was I supposed to do?" she asked, her eyes glistening. "There wasn't really anything left to negotiate, and I at least thought that maybe if I told her where it was or my version of where it was..."

"What?" Hatter said sharply. "You didn't really believe that once you told her where it was she was going to give two figs about what happened to you, do you? Very likely, she would have had you beheaded just for the trouble you caused. Or she would have just left you for the Tweedles to continue playing with." An unexplainable anger was taking hold of him. How could she have treated her life so carelessly? Was it her job back in her world that taught her to value her life so little?

"I know." Alice's quiet, level reply shook him to the core. How could she remain so calm when she was essentially relating to him what had been a suicidal plan?

"Why?" he croaked, his voice grown hoarse from the bile rising in his throat. "Why would you do such a thing, Alice? Was it because of that slimy prince? Were you really going to throw your life away just because he had lied to you? I don't really know the bloke, but I know he's nowhere close to being worth your life."

Alice's lips tightened and she closed her eyes, shaking her head vehemently. "No," she firmly denied. "It wasn't because of him."

"Then, why?" he practically shouted. He desperately needed to get to the bottom of this terrifying new development.

"Does it matter?" she shot back, her voice trembling. "You saved me. So, it doesn't matter anymore."

_But it does to me,_ he wanted to say. _Your life is everything to me._

"Why didn't you at least fight back? Use that Slayer strength of yours?" he pointed out.

Alice let out a derisive snort. "Yeah, well, I did actually try. I ran into a major problem with that," she related dryly.

Hatter frowned uneasily. "Why? What happened?"

A humorless smile spread across Alice's features, and it made a sickening sensation grip his belly. "Mad March. I exposed my powers back in my world on the White Rabbit guy and he tattled. Apparently, the queen isn't an idiot. I don't know how she did it, but, somehow that freak is juiced up to the point where he's even stronger than me." Then she added, "And he sure as hell seems to be pissed off with you."

_Oh fuck._ Mad March being resurrected from the dead was bad enough, especially when the one who was mostly responsible for the assassin-tracker losing his head in the first place was Hatter. But Mad March being back from the dead and having more strength than super-strong Alice was like a walking nightmare. He felt his head start to spin with this new knowledge.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Not really, but he did hold a knife to my throat," she replied dismissively.

_I'm going to kill him, super strength or no super strength._ After all, Hatter did still have the Sledgehammer on his side. He had his suspicions that his right hook was even stronger than Alice's.

_"Hey nonny nonny! The wind and the rain!"_ The voice floated from the direction he and Alice had been headed before they got sidetracked by their depressing conversation and the two immediately whirled around in shock.

Alice's face lit up. "Charlie!" she gasped, running towards his voice. Hatter followed her, equally pleased to find that the knight had survived the wet crash-landing after all and somewhat grateful for a reprieve from their morose talk.

They followed the voice through a patch of high growing weeds and scrub to find the knight sitting before a small fire in his white underclothes, his armor having been removed and set up to dry on the ground. He was poking at the fire and singing loudly to himself, seeming no worse for the wear. Both Hatter and Alice stared in amazement at what had seemed very unlikely to them. Somehow, Charlie had not only managed to surface in his armor, but he had managed to swim back to shore, doff the armor, and build up a fire.

_Maybe a steady diet of borogove has magical properties..._

"Charlie!" Alice greeted warmly, walking over to the knight.

The knight looked up and grinned with pleasant surprise. "Thank the stars! I was just about to go back into the water to look for you two!"

At least this time it seemed he was included in Charlie's concerns, the young man noted.

Charlie hugged Alice affectionately and then nodded towards Hatter. The younger man shoved his negative feelings from earlier below the joyful relief he felt at seeing the indomitable, daft old knight alive and kicking. He had seriously been afraid he had sent the man to his watery grave by allowing him to join him on the rescue mission.

"How did you make it ashore with all that armor on?" Hatter inquired, definitely impressed by the knight's fortitude.

"I'm a knight," Charlie simply replied as if that were a perfectly adequate explanation. Hatter just shrugged. Perhaps that was all the explanation that was needed. What did he really know about knights and their training?

"Besides, I invented a very useful little, whirly, jiggamathing, which I can't tell you about. It's a classified, patent pending, very hush-hush, and that sort of thing," the old man added in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Well, I'm glad you're okay. I'm glad you're both okay," Alice said sincerely. She walked over to stand in front of the two men, wringing her hands together nervously.

Now that the group had been reunited, Hatter resumed his concern of their vulnerable position in the open. He pulled his hat off his head and ran his fingers through his damp locks while saying, "We should get off this beach before we get spotted. Probably should just head back to the kingdom and rest up and eat, then figure out what we'll do next."

"No," Alice stated decisively.

Hatter frowned. "No?" he asked in a strained voice.

The girl drew in a shaky breath and glanced away from the two men, her hands still fidgeting anxiously before her. "Listen, I am beyond grateful for what you guys did for me. You guys saved my life, or, well, my sanity anyway, which is pretty much the same thing, I guess. And I know you're not going to like this, but...I think I have to go back to the casino." She cringed as she said the words, probably knowing how they would be received.

Charlie groaned in exasperation, which was quite out of character from what Hatter knew of him. For his part, the younger man had been stunned speechless. That statement had come totally out of the blue. Why, after everything that had happened, would she even contemplate going back?

"Why?" Hatter sputtered. He was met with silence for a few moments, which sent his speculations running wild. "Oh, don't tell me you still have some misguided loyalty to Jack or something?"

Alice threw him a disgusted look. "Oh, god no, it's not for him. It's...my father is in the casino," she finally admitted. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the object that had been causing the slight bulge in the fabric.

"Your father?" Hatter repeated as if the very word were foreign. Now that had certainly been an unexpected claim. Why would Alice think her father was in the casino?

"What makes you think he's there?" he questioned, not bothering to cover the blatant cynicism marking his voice.

Alice held out her hand to him and he took the object lying in her palm. It was a small clock with a square face set upon a band of silver metal links. "That does. That's his watch. I know it. It's stuck on the exact date and time that he disappeared and it has his initials on the back." He flipped the watch over and saw the letters RH inscribed on the back. Hamilton was Alice's last name.

"RH for Robert Hamilton," the girl informed him, smiling poignantly. "He disappeared when I was ten years old and we never knew what happened to him. He was just gone...he didn't even pack his things...or leave a word of goodbye." Years of grief over her father's disappearance and the agony of not knowing what had prompted it weighed her voice down. Hatter recalled how her father had shown up in the portraits with Alice as a child, but had not figured in the portraits with her as a teenager. At the time he had not thought the detail all that important. Now he realized it had been very significant. He felt a rush of tender sympathy for her, having lost his own father to the executioner's axe as a very young child.

Hatter studied the watch in his palm. "Alice, how did you find this?" he queried. Surely she had not been just permitted to go snooping about in the casino.

She was hesitant to provide an answer at first, but finally her shoulders sagged and she said in a weary voice, "Jack slipped it to me in the Throne Room."

Hatter's fist closed over the object and he felt an angry, incredulous heat rise up within him. "What? And you believe him? After everything he's already lied about?"

Alice sighed. "I know, I already thought about that. But that _is_ my father's watch. How could Jack have known about that? I mean, I know I never mentioned it to him. My dad used to wear it all the time even after accidentally taking a swim with it so it no longer kept good time. He definitely would have been wearing it the day he disappeared."

Hatter shook his head, unwilling to believe anything that damn prince said. As far as he was concerned, the royal bastard was still intent on stringing Alice around like he had been doing for the past few months the two had been a couple. It made him sick with fury and indignation on Alice's behalf. He glanced up at her and felt his stomach convulse at the desperate hope shining in her beautiful blue eyes. She was going to hate him for destroying that hope, he realized. She had been waiting and searching so long for her father that now, when the slightest of possibilities that he was alive and within her reach showed up, she was not going to let go for anything. But Hatter had to keep her from going back to that casino, even if it meant losing her trust and regard.

"He's lying," Hatter declared flatly.

Alice's eyes hardened just as he had suspected they would. It made his heart break. "Look, I know it sounds far-fetched, but...you heard Charlie! There is a reason I'm here. I have to find my father and save him," she insisted.

_Even if her father was taken by the White Rabbit, that would have been over a decade ago. There's no possible way he's still being...used._

"Alice," Hatter said gently, coming closer to her and putting the watch back in her hand. "You said he disappeared when you were a kid, right? Well, let's suppose your father was taken by the White Rabbit and brought here to Wonderland." He closed his eyes, already feeling the pain he was going to cause her with this logic. "Alice, I'm sorry, but there's no way he'd still be...around...after being in the casino that long. He'd have been drained completely dry years ago." It was true. An oyster lasted an average of a year to a year and a half in the casino. Once they were completely drained of all their harvestable emotions they were, simply put, shot and burned to ashes.

Alice wrenched the watch away and hugged it to her, her eyes a haze of grief and anger. "Why would Jack have slipped this to me, then? He even said the words 'He's here' to me!" she cried.

Hatter tried to keep his feelings in check. "Alice, maybe he was just telling you something he'd thought you want to hear. Maybe he thought it would, I don't know, make you less angry with him and less likely to beat his face in or something. Or maybe he was hoping for something to distract you from the fact that he's a royal prat. That just goes to show he really doesn't care about you." _Not like I do,_ he added in silence. Now was not the time to bring that particular issue up, however. The girl was dealing with enough emotional hardships at the moment.

She vehemently shook her head. "No, you don't understand. Jack was acting so weird back there. I mean, yeah, I realize the asshole lied to me and I'm not going to let him off the hook for that, but..." she seemed to waver on how to word her thoughts for a minute before carrying on. "I'm not so sure he's in league with his mother. I mean, I think he might have been taking a huge risk slipping this watch to me."

Hatter scoffed at the very idea of the prince not being his mother's loyal little lapdog. "Of course he's loyal to his mother, Alice. Blood is thicker than water, you know. He's the heir to the throne. He's not going to jeopardize his chance at being king for anything."

Alice did not speak. She held the watch to her bosom as if it were the most precious item in the world. Hatter could feel her struggling with herself. She wanted so very badly to believe that her father was here and that she could save him, even if it meant trusting the word of a man who had lied to her from the moment she had met him. But a part of her was still clinging to doubt, and Hatter's words had strengthened it. She resented him for feeding that doubt and killing off the hope she was trying to hold on to. It tore him up inside to feel that resentment directed towards him. Whatever progress he had made in Alice's eyes was slowly being stripped away.

_Fucking Jack Heart. I hate that prick of a prince._

"Alice, please, it kills me to do this to you. I know how much you want to believe your father is there," Hatter pleaded. "But, think about it, Jack gave you the ring. Why? It made you a target. And now when you show up in Wonderland to save his sorry arse, he goes and tells you that your father is in the casino. Does that not seem a bit fishy to you? He's using you!"

Alice's cold reply cut him to the bone. "And you're not?"

_That's not her talking, mate_, a voice inside assured him. _That's just the pain lashing out. Don't take it personally. _But he could not deny the way her words had cut into him as if they had been armed with razor sharp edges. She could have hurt him less if she had just punched him in the gut.

Alice must have seen the effect her accusation had on him, for her gaze instantly softened with remorse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Hatter nodded, trying his best to rein in the urge to fling the accusation back at her face. After all, what had he been doing since he had met her but try to help her get back home? If anyone was being used, it was him. But, then, that was not quite true. Even from the beginning, he had wanted to help her, if only because being near her gave him the taste of genuinely deep, unfettered emotions. How quickly his motives were altered when it became clear there were other reasons drawing him to this beguiling oyster like a moth to a flame. Even now, when she was being so utterly thick-headed and somewhat heartless toward him, he could not imagine abandoning her. He would vastly prefer it if she hated him if it meant he could keep her away from the casino. There had to be some way to appeal to her senses, which were completely blinded by this impossible wish of being reunited with her father. His mind searched for a way to keep her grounded; all the while knowing that time was rapidly running out.

"Alice, please, just let me think of something," he begged, his dark chocolate gaze latching onto hers beseechingly. "Just..." He clenched his fists as he ran through the available options until one finally lit up. "Let me appeal to the Resistance on your behalf."

Alice responded with a scathing snort of laughter. "Oh yeah, cuz that worked out _so_ well last time. If you recall, I ended up getting a freaking shotgun aimed at my chest and you were actually shot!" She slapped her hands down against her thighs and huffed. "So, excuse me if I'm not too eager to ask them for a favor again."

Unfortunately, the girl had a good point. But there was still a way. His mind had begun working a mile a minute, unraveling the skein of possibilities. He felt a bit more like his old self once more.

"One branch!" Hatter countered, holding up his index finger to emphasize the point. "One branch of the Resistance that was, Alice. If we can get to the top man, he'll help us out." He was not absolutely certain in that regard, but he felt the elusive Resistance leader might be at least willing to hear their case.

Alice's expression smoothed a little, her brow arching. Hatter took that as a good sign that she was pulling the proverbial cotton out of her ears and willing to listen to reason.

"You know him?" she asked.

Hatter grimaced. There was the snag in his plan, for he did not know the Resistance leader personally and, in fact, had never met the man. He only knew the man's strange code name: Caterpillar. "Yes," he replied without thinking, but then he amended his answer. "Well, no, not exactly."

Alice's expression soured dangerously and he fumbled for a way to win her back. "But, no one really knows his true identity, you see," he insisted somewhat defensively. "He goes by a code name: Caterpillar." It may have been a mistake to tell her the name of the leader of the Resistance movement was the same name applied to a glorified grub.

"Jesus Christ," Alice muttered. Hatter realized she said those words quite a lot, and he wondered what they were supposed to mean. A question for another time, he figured.

He slowly approached her, noticing for the first time the dark circles under her eyes. The young woman had been through an incredible amount of pain and terror, and it reflected in the dull cast to her normally vibrant blue eyes. Everything she had thought she knew had been turned on its head and then split apart at the seams. Hatter would have given anything to wipe away the agony and grief in her gaze. He wanted so much to take those burdens which weighed so heavily on her soul. He gingerly reached out both his hands and threaded his fingers through hers. Amazingly, the girl did not shy away from the physical contact nor did she shake off his grasp. Instead, she looked up at him, a strange vulnerable look in her eyes.

"Just give me a few hours and I'll slip back into the city and make contact. You head back to the fortress with Charlie and get some rest and food. I'm thinking you didn't take the time last night to get in some sleep, right?" He could not help but reach up to lightly flick her cheek, provoking a wan smile from her.

"Maybe, but it wouldn't be the first time I've gone days without sleep," she muttered dryly.

A muscle in his jaw twitched at the reminder of the rigors and perils of her occupation in her home world, but he did not comment on her remark. Instead, he made a concession that he knew might come back to haunt him. "If I'm not back by nightfall...do it your way." _Bloody hell, why did I say that?_

Alice swallowed, closing her eyes and nodding her head. "Okay," she whispered. She sniffled, lifting up a hand to rub her eyes.

"Charlie," Hatter called out to the knight, who had been standing a respectful distance away from the two. For a man who had spent decades without human contact, he seemed amazingly cognizant of certain things. "I'm going back into the city for a bit. Can you take Alice back to the fortress and...?" He did not know exactly how to word his request, feeling that asking the knight to protect and watch over her might be taken with a degree of offense.

"Of course, I shall escort the lady back to my home," Charlie assured him. Hatter hoped the knight's impossibly jovial mood would help lighten Alice's spirits for a little while.

"Will you be okay?" Alice inquired, bringing Hatter's attention back to her. Her blue eyes were shimmering with wetness. "Mad March is going to be out there...What if?" Worry and fear wracked her tone.

Hatter could not deny he was touched by her concern, but Mad March was the least of his worries at the moment. "I'll be fine," he declared confidently. "And I'll be back. I promise." He tucked an errant tendril of wet dark hair behind her ear. The air in the infinitesimal space between his hand and her soft skin seemed to crackle intensely.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Just be careful, please. And..." Her gaze drew away from him to stare down at her feet. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch earlier. It's just..." the girl swallowed again, her voice growing tight. "I've waited so long to find him." He knew the "him" she spoke of was her father, not Jack. Though he knew it was wretched of him, he felt a tiny spark of relief swell up his heart at seeing that she did not appear to be hung up on Jack.

"I know," Hatter whispered gently. The urge to enfold her in his arms and let her just cry out her woes on his shoulder almost overcame him. But something held him back. If he crossed the small space between them to take her in his arms, he might never be able to let her go. So, instead, he forced himself to just pat her awkwardly on the shoulder before taking a step away from her.

"Good bye, Harbinger!" Charlie interjected amidst strapping his plate armor back on. "Good luck on your mission!"

Hatter barely heard the knight's farewell. His focus was solely bent towards Alice, who stood, despondently watching him walk away. She gave a tiny, half-hearted wave, putting on a brave smile. He waved in return, feeling his heart pound miserably against his chest wall. Then he turned around. Without looking back, he started jogging back to the area where they had left the boat.

* * *

The city was eerily silent in the pre-dusk hours. Truth be told, the city had never been incredibly noisy or vibrant that Hatter could remember. Ever since the Hearts had introduced the teas spiked with potent oyster emotions, most other forms of commerce and social interaction had fallen by the wayside. There were very few legitimate, non-tea associated businesses still around, and those were hanging by a slim thread at best. The tailor shops and seamstresses managed to hold onto their livelihoods, and Hatter himself was probably largely responsible for their success due to his incurable urge to always be well-dressed. If the Resistance did ever succeed in wresting power from the Hearts and expunging the use of oyster emotions from Wonderland, the young man wondered how the flimsy economy would survive.

_Things have to get worse before they can get better_, he told himself. It was a platitude he had always treated with a healthy dose of skepticism, but, now he was starting to see the wisdom in those words.

Hatter kept to the dark side alleys he had learned and memorized years ago, his eyes and ears keen for any hint of danger, be it from Suit or from a crazed tea-junkie who was probably starting to feel the effects of withdrawal. Without the Stone of Wonderland to power the Looking Glass, there could be no fresh shipments of oysters. No new oysters meant no new wells of harvestable emotions guaranteeing a steady supply of elixirs. Also, lest he forget, his shop had been completely ransacked by Mad March and his posse, and was not likely to be up and running business as usual anyway. There were probably more than a few men and women who were already beginning to gnaw at their arms in a vain attempt to escape the stark blackness of ennui. If even one of them saw Hatter, and possibly recognized him through their miasma of forced apathy, he might find himself mobbed. Addicts would do almost anything to secure their drugs.

A few Suits patrolled the area surrounding his shop. Hatter silently lamented their presence, for it meant there was little chance his business partner was still inside. Dormouse, or, as Hatter usually called him, Dormie, was responsible for marketing the new teas. Though the little man had a tendency to fall asleep at the most inconvenient of times, he had an impressive skill with showmanship and sales. Perhaps more importantly, especially in this particular situation, was Dormie's position in the Resistance. Dormie was a messenger and liaison between the different factions of the Resistance. Dodo was one of several lieutenants who controlled specific branches and strongholds. All the lieutenants answered to Caterpillar, and Hatter knew Dormie could find him, if not at least get word to him. Now the only thing remained was finding Dormie, and, considering the man's diminutive stature, such a thing was easier said than done. A grim glance up at the receding daylight and Hatter's pulse quickened. His words to Alice echoed in his mind. He could not afford to be late.

Then, as if it were an answer from a merciful deity, Hatter heard the door to his shop bang open. He peeked around the corner of the building and silently cheered when the squat, waddling form of Dormie appeared. The little man was even walking towards the area where Hatter hid from the view of the Suits. He waited until his employee ventured close enough and then Hatter's arm shot out faster than a blink of an eye. He pulled Dormie in behind the wall and held him up against it with one arm.

Dormie squeaked in terror, frantically pulling his hands over his face protectively. "Arrghhh! Not the face! Not the..." An eye creaked open, and he stopped struggling when he saw who it was who held him up. "Hatter? What do you want?" He did not relax entirely though, for Dormie knew almost better than anyone how dangerous the teashop owner could be. His barrel chest puffed in and out in quick succession.

"Just keep your voice down, Dormie," Hatter instructed in a calm, but serious, voice. There was no time for pleasantries and subtleties; the young man would have to get right to the point. "I need you to get a message to Caterpillar."

Dormie's homely face twisted into an expression of confusion. "What makes you think I can do that?" he asked diffidently.

Hatter's eyebrow shot up, his chocolate eyes sparking with warning. "Don't get cute. I haven't got the time."

Dormie squirmed under his intense gaze. "Dodo's the only one I know in the Resistance," he declared. "Not even sure Caterpillar really exists!" A nervous laugh escaped his mouth. "He's probably some mythical figure made up to keep us all treading the mill." He was lying, and rather unconvincingly, which rather surprised Hatter since Dormie had worked with him for years. But, then again, the dwarfish man had never been known to be terribly bright.

So be it. Hatter would play along if only because it saved him some precious time. "Then you tell Dodo to get a message to him, then," he ordered sternly.

Dormie did not answer, but his beady little eyes had at least stopped roaming all over the place, trying to find an escape route.

"Tell him 'We still have what they want. We're ready to make a deal.' Got it?" The message was best kept simple and direct in the event that it was intercepted by an enemy party. Also, he knew it would be easier for Dormie to remember it well enough to relay it accurately.

"Yes, boss," Dormie relented in a meek voice. Hatter nodded and then gently lowered the man to the ground.

When Dormie just stood there, staring up at him in that dull-witted fashion, Hatter waved his arms impatiently. "Well, get going then! I told you I haven't got much time. I'll be waiting here." Dormie squeaked again and then scampered off, running back the way he had come as fast as his fat little legs would carry him.

Hatter watched him go until he was out of sight and then he loosed a weary sigh and slid down to sit on the ground with his back against the wall. His eyes strayed to the sky again where daylight still reigned, but was gradually losing ground. He hated finding himself so pinned by time constraints. There was a point in his life (a few days ago, for example) when time had not really been of much importance. He received the shipments from the casino and then doled it out to the slavering consumers, all the while storing up supplies and information to smuggle down to Dodo. He had worked hard to secure that coveted position as an informant and double agent, and while it had come with its own brand of perils, it had still enabled him to live a life unavailable to most people in the kingdom.

_"While we risk our lives trying to bring freedom to ungrateful leeches like you, you _swan_ about, living the good life!"_ Dodo's words had rung with a note of truth, if only the second part. Hatter could not remember the last time that fat ponce had ever put himself in danger, whereas _he_ had to tread a very delicate line between life and losing his head. Being a double agent did come with its perks, but there were enormous drawbacks that Dodo was incredibly blind to.

In an effort to distract himself from the tension knotting his stomach, Hatter directed his mind towards the few pleasant aspects of his life of late. Alice immediately appeared in all her wet, dripping beauty. He could not help but allow a ghostly smile flit over his face. That girl brought up such a rousing contradiction of emotions, and they were emotions such as he had never truly experienced in his entire twenty-five years of life. She invigorated and exhausted him, frightened and calmed him; at times she infuriated him and at other times she brought such an indelible sensation of joy he thought his heart would burst from it.

Even Wonderlanders, so stunted in their abilities to feel, knew there was only one thing which could elicit so many incongruous feelings. He could not continue to lie to himself. There was no mistaking what it was he felt for her, even if he had never felt such an emotion towards one who was not of his own blood. And even this type of _feeling_ was different than the feelings he had harbored towards his family, who were all long gone. There was still a deep feeling of protectiveness as well as affection and admiration, but with Alice the feelings burned hotter and brighter. There was an intense yearning attached to this tender emotion he felt for her. He felt shivers of desire whenever he saw her in that blue dress, drawn tight against her skin by the water soaking its fabric. He knew what it was to _want_ a woman, but never with such a deep, abiding tenderness accompanying it. It was not just her body he wanted. He wanted _her_, all of her.

Hatter dropped his head into his palms, groaning. There was no doubt about it; he was doomed. He had been doomed from the first moment Alice had walked into his office.

* * *

I couldn't stand Alice's behavior in the mini in this scene. Obviously, with the way I've sort of altered her character, she's not _quite_ as bitchy. And, yes, I know I did not have her mention Jack being engaged to a duchess...there is a method to my madness.


	17. The Wonders of Fate

I apologize for the unexpected delay in this update. I've been having some issues with my beloved, but somewhat old, laptop and a nasty little virus. I can't access any of my original files at the moment, so I sort of lost the original version of this chapter and bits of the one following it. So, of course, I had to do a rewrite because who knows when, if ever, I'll get to my old files. I extend my gratitude to all my readers and reviewers! Your support means a lot!

* * *

**Chapter XVI: **The Wonders of Fate

The plush velvet coat was still hanging where Alice had left it, a grim testimony to her impulsive idiocy. The dark purple material fluttered against the tree in the gentle cool breeze as the young Slayer came to retrieve it. She scrunched the fabric in her hands and brought it up to her face to breathe in the remnants of Hatter's scent. It was still there, caught up in the fabric amidst the scents of dirt and smoke. The essence of tea spices, cinnamon, leather, and a faint masculine muskiness teased through her olfactory senses. The scent triggered her hippocampus into reeling headfirst into those last few moments she had with Hatter before he left to go back to the city.

_I should have gone with him,_ she thought to herself as she pulled the coat on. But she knew it was better that he had gone alone. She had seen for herself how well Hatter could take care of himself. He was a tough, capable, and resourceful young man and he probably knew the city like the back of his hand. She would have only slowed him down, especially taking into consideration her fear of heights. A shudder ran through her at the thought of having to contend with the daunting heights of the city and its narrow walkways and razor thin ledges. Alice had had more than she could possibly handle with endless, gaping abysses.

But, still, she feared for her friend. Mad March would be on the prowl. She could hope that their crash landing into the lake might throw the Suits and their queen off the search, but, somehow, she knew that would not happen. The ruler had proven herself to be far from stupid, much to Alice's chagrin. At least the queen's pet assassin would be sent looking for her, and not Hatter. So it was probable that Mad March and his posse would be taking their search to the woods. They would likely not be expecting her to return to the city.

Her stomach growled insistently, reminding her that she had not eaten since the previous night. With a doleful sigh, the girl turned and walked back over to fire pit in the center of the encampment.

Charlie had doffed his armor once more and sat humming to himself while he threw twigs and sticks into the pit. "Are you hungry, My Lady? I was thinking about cooking the rest of that borogove meat," he offered.

In spite of her physical hunger, Alice's appetite had flown the coop for the moment. Even the offer of delicious, succulent borogove could not entice it to return. "Um, maybe a little later, Charlie," she declined wearily.

Her gaze meandered past him to the barn where she was to have spent the previous night. The tattered quilt was still rumpled and trailing to the ground. Just like the coat, it was exactly as she had left it, only serving to remind her of her folly. Guilt and sorrow stabbed through her. Had she only stayed here, Hatter would not have to be _literally_ risking his neck to try to get a message to this Caterpillar fellow. But, if she had not gone to the casino, she would never have learned the startling truth about her father, or Jack, for that matter.

"Ugh," Alice groaned, dropping her face into her palms.

The knight peered at her, his pale blue eyes darkened with concern. "Are you well, Lady Alice?" he inquired.

Alice lifted her head up and ran her hands through her tangled dark locks. "Oh, I just feel like my brain is going to explode," she admitted with a small, humorless chuckle.

Charlie's eyes grew wide and his face drained of all color. "Truly?" he gasped.

"Oh, no, not literally," Alice quickly amended, holding her hands up. "No, it's...ah...just a saying in my world." She picked up one of the sticks and twirled it around in her hand, her mind immediately running through all the ways such a small object could be turned into a weapon.

"Ah, I see," Charlie said uncertainly. He eyed her warily, seeming to expect a spray of blood, bone, and brain matter within a few seconds.

"It's just hard for me to wrap my head around it all," the girl clarified as she speared the stick into the soft ground. "He told me he was a day trader, you know. It's one of those fancy, business suit type jobs that brings in a lot of money. He told me lots of things." Her voice cracked with bitterness. "And I believed it all. That's what really pisses me off." She had replayed all those myriad instances with Jack in the past three months of their relationship. He had played her like a professional musician plays his instrument and she had eaten up every single word.

"And then..." She sighed heavily before saying, "my father..." Her voice cracked again, only this time it was an attempt to beat back the sob which tried to escape. As much as she liked Charlie, she did not feel comfortable surrendering control of herself in front of him. She swallowed and rubbed at her eyes.

"You were ten when your father disappeared, yes?" Charlie asked softly. His eyes glittered with tender sympathy.

Alice nodded.

"Must have been quite a shock," the old knight remarked, snapping a stick in half and tossing it into the pile in the fire pit.

Swallowing again, the girl shrugged almost nonchalantly. "Well, you know how kids are. They end up blaming themselves for that sort of thing." Alice _had_ blamed herself for a long time. She had thought perhaps her occasional lapses in behavior or her mediocre performance in school had chased her beloved father away. It had taken her mother quite a while to convince her otherwise.

Charlie grew still, his hand hovering over the next stick he had been about to add to the pile of kindling. Alice frowned with concern. "Charlie?" she probed.

The knight looked up, but his blue eyes were trained on something far beyond Alice's ken. "I was ten once," he stated in a tone suggesting he was fully aware such a notion was hard to envision. To be fair, Alice did have trouble picturing the indomitable old knight as a young child. "I was ten when the armies came."

That statement caused the girl's mouth to drop open in a silent "O". She figured Charlie had been around when the Red King and his army had fallen to the Queen of Hearts, but she had not considered the possibility that he had been so young when it had happened. That must have been a horrible ordeal. She had no idea what to say in response. All words sounded so vapid and...inadequate.

No response was needed, it seemed, for Charlie continued to speak in his soft, level tone. "I was one of three squires to the real White Knight." She raised an eyebrow at Charlie's use of the word _real_, but did not comment. It was probably hard enough for him to speak of such a tragedy.

Charlie's gaze met her own then, and his eyes were alight with fierce pride. "My job was to carry the great lance," he recalled fondly, a small smile forming on his face. The pride guttered out, though, like the light of a fire whisked out by the wind. Sorrow and shame crept into the old knight's voice as he said, "But when it mattered...when I was needed most...I lost my nerve and ran."

Charlie resumed breaking up sticks and throwing it onto the pile of kindling. "I hid for three days," he told her as he worked. "When I came out...everyone was dead. Even my magnificent Red King there on his throne." He nodded towards the grisly monument as if Alice had forgotten it was there and then his gaze turned to the ground. "At first I wished I'd died with them." He paused for a moment, lost in his reverie. "But then," he continued after a beat, "a deeper feeling took over."

Again, Alice was stricken mute. Such a tale had never been told and, suddenly, here it was, offered up plainly and unadorned. She felt a solemn sense of honor at being the first, and, perhaps, the only one, to hear Charlie's tragic story.

"I wanted a second chance," the knight said. "I wanted to avenge them. So, I stole My Lord's armor...his name...his courage. And I waited for the right time." He drew his eyes back up to her, his lips curling up into a smile. His luminous light blue eyes began to gleam with the faintest shimmer of hope. "When you showed up, I knew the right time had finally come."

_Oh crap._ Alice was not certain she could handle the concept of being Charlie's ticket to redemption. As far as she was concerned, he had no need of redemption. How could anyone expect a ten-year-old boy to face an invading army? One thing was certain, however. Charlie's childhood trauma trumped hers by far. She may have lost a father, but at least she had still had her mother, her friends, and her neighborhood. By all accounts, the girl should not be complaining.

"Charlie," Alice said, shaking her head in wonderment. "You were _ten_. There is no shame in what you did. In that situation, I would have run, too." She reached out to lightly squeeze the knight's knobby left knee.

The old man responded with a stubborn shake of his head. "Bah! I dishonored not only myself with such a display of cowardice, I also dishonored My Lord."

Though a part of her knew she was against a deeply ingrained sense of honor far different than her own, Alice still felt compelled to change his opinion of himself. She could not be what he wanted her to be. She could not be his chance for vengeance and redemption. All the girl could foresee in such a thing was more failure and disappointment and she could not handle letting this man down.

"But if you hadn't run, you wouldn't have survived," Alice countered. "You lived to carry on their memory and you...endured on your own for so long. That takes a completely different kind of courage, Charlie. Do you have any idea how many people would have succumbed to despair? Would have just given up?"

The knight stared at her, a puzzling look on his face. She could see he was mulling over her words even if he did not completely believe them.

"You know, where I'm from, and...well, the stuff I do, we have a number one rule to follow above all the others," Alice told him, standing up and patting the dirt off of her dress.

"What's that?" Charlie asked.

"Don't die," she replied. "I don't know if you heard me and Hatter talking last night, but, I'm not exactly a normal girl where I come from." She picked up the stick she had speared into the ground and threw it onto the pile of firewood.

"Ah, yes, I may have...ehm...overheard," Charlie admitted apologetically.

"It's okay," Alice assured him. "Saves me from telling the same story twice, really. Anyway, my point is, heroics and bravery are all nice and important. But survival is also important. You're only human, Charlie." She was not quite certain on that account. Her senses did identifiy him as a human, but the man _was_ well over a century old. People from her world did not live that long, but that did not necessarily rule out him being a part of the human species. "There is a time for leaping into battle and going out in a blaze of glory, trust me. But there's also a time to know when you're on the losing end of a fight. A dead Slayer doesn't help anyone and neither does a dead White Knight. If you survive, you're alive to fight another day."

The knight's eyes drifted over to the suit of armor standing upright not more than ten feet away from them. A sigh escaped his lips, and with it came a release of a great burden. When Charlie looked back at her, she saw that his ancient gaze seemed lighter. A great weight had eased off his shoulders. With a soft smile and a raised eyebrow, Charlie cocked his head in agreement. His voice was roughened with emotion as he murmured, "Perhaps you are right..._Justalice_."

* * *

It felt good to hold a weapon in her hands. Alice reveled in the feel of the cool, smooth metal sliding against her sensitive fingertips as she caressed the blade. It was very simple, the only adornment being the white paint glossing over the hilt and pommel. Its simplicity could not conceal the expert craftsmanship, however. It was well-balanced and light, not that the weight of the blade mattered so much for one as strong as she. The edges and tip were sharp, even after so many years of lying idle in an armory. Charlie had salvaged all his brethren's weapons in what the girl could only assume was an enormous and grievous task. Though she had to admit she was glad to find the White Knights did not appear to submit to that ridiculous belief that warriors needed to be buried with their weapons.

She had wandered up this steep hill, feeling restlessness propel her towards solitude even though exhaustion was wound through every bone and sinew. Charlie had retired for a nap in his hammock, and Alice had been tempted to follow suit and crawl underneath the shabby quilt in that ramshackle barn, but just as her appetite had been chased away by all the thoughts mucking about in her head, so had her ability to sleep. She could not sleep while Hatter was still out there in very real danger. She tilted her head up towards the sky, her brow knitting together into a worried frown when she saw how little daylight there was still left. Judging by the sun's dark golden cast and position, there could not be more than an hour, perhaps two, before it sank beneath the horizon altogether.

And then where would she be? Hatter had told her she could do things her way if he had not returned by nightfall. Her way, she gathered, was to return to the casino on her own and tackle the daunting task of getting her father out of there. She found her heart torn once again between two very strong and opposing forces. One force was tugging her towards her father, holding up the memories of her frozen childhood like a grim, nostalgic beacon. The other was anchoring her here in these woods, her stomach and heart fluttering in tandem at the way Hatter's hand had brushed her wet hair back from her face and how his deep, chocolate eyes had bore into her so intensely. She had to acknowledge that there was something between them, a spark of some sort that she had never felt with anyone else. It scared her as much as it tantalized her.

With a frustrated cry, the young Slayer struck out with the sword, slicing at empty air. The strike was followed by a more controlled swipe and, before long, the girl pitched herself into a one-sided battle. She danced with the blade while striking, jabbing, parrying. She ran through all the forms and techniques, their execution coming as naturally to her as breathing. Her heart rate sped up and her mind eased as she gave herself over to her primal side just for a little while. It was a glorious catharsis.

Alice pivoted, slashing upwards with the blade, and felt a jolt run through her when she saw the silver metal strike through a floating mass of purple with bright blue stripes. The entity peeled apart like paper mist, chuckling in amusement at having caught the young warrior so completely unawares. The nebulous vapor formed itself into the familiar shape of the Cheshire, sporting its wide, toothy grin. Its huge bushy tail rocked from side to side like a pendulum as it floated towards Alice.

"Hello, Alice," the Cheshire greeted in its sexless, silken voice.

A stream of invectives flew through the girl's mind at the appearance of this powerful, but most annoying, of deities. She bit down on her tongue even though she knew the thing was fully capable of diving into her thoughts like they were an open pool. She had not sensed its presence at all, and it disconcerted her beyond belief. There was also the fact that the blade had slid through the thing like butter and it had just pulled itself back together again. That had been an unnerving sight to behold.

"How long have you been there?" Alice demanded.

The cat-god-thing shrugged, or, rather, gave the closest approximation of a shrug its current anatomy would allow. "Not as long as when you were bathing," it snickered.

Her cheeks flamed with heat and her grip instinctively tightened on the hilt of the sword. It took a few moments before she realized the creature was baiting her, and was quite enjoying it. She relaxed her stance and rolled her eyes. "You just crack me up," she muttered sarcastically.

"Oh, don't be insulted. You are attractive, I suppose, for a human, but beings such as my illustrious self do not care for mortal desires of the flesh," it informed her in a decidedly prim tone. It held up its paw as if to inspect its claws, a languid expression on its feline face. "So, what did you think of the Queen of Hearts?"

Alice scowled at the mention of the woman. "Well, simply put, I think she's a psychotic bitch, but she's also a psychotic bitch with a brain."

"Ah, yes," the Cheshire agreed, nodding its furry, round head. "Really clever move giving such strength to the assassin Mad March."

The Slayer did not reply to the comment, but instead brought up another subject. "You knew, didn't you? You knew everything...Jack...my father?"

The being sighed in a way which sounded almost remorseful. Alice did not think for a second the creature felt guilty for withholding information. "I told you things in Wonderland were seldom as they seemed," it reminded her.

"Oh, yes, and I'm suddenly supposed to make the intuitive leap that Jack is actually the queen's son and my father has actually been in Wonderland for the past eleven years of my life from that statement," Alice griped.

The creature's eyes flashed. "I know you may find it hard to believe, but even beings such as myself have rules to follow. Your Powers That Be cannot simply tell you everything back in your world. We are bound to keep our interference to a minimum for the sake of balance."

Alice cocked an eyebrow. "But yet you led me straight to Mad March and his posse?" she pointed out.

The Cheshire grinned. "Oh, well, I may have cheated a little," it admitted.

She was quiet for a while, contemplating how to word her questions since it did not seem likely she could glean actual information from this creature. "Earlier today you told me I was not here by coincidence," Alice recalled, speaking slowly. "And you told me my work was far from finished."

Amazingly, the Cheshire did not engage in its usual round of absurd jokes and comments. Its bright blue eyes suddenly grew very serious. "Yes, I did."

She reached into her pocket then and pulled out her father's watch. Without looking up at the Cheshire, she simply stated, "I need to know the truth. Is my father here? Please, tell me. Am I here to rescue him?"

There was no reply for an agonizingly long time and Alice began to fear she had reached the extent of her exchange with the Cheshire. "Child, you know why you are here. You have been struggling against this knowledge for a long time, but, deep down, you know why, in the twisted schemes of fate, you were brought here," it intoned gravely.

With a flash, Alice was catapulted back to her memories of the day before when Hatter brought her to the Great Library. She knew this manipulation of the mind was the Cheshire's doing, and she instinctively rebelled against it. But there was no thwarting the will of a god. The young Slayer had no choice but to relive these moments. Once more she was staring down from the catwalk above the ground floor of the magnificent library, watching the multitude of innocent refugees suffering from illness and hunger. The desolate sight had stirred up a mixture of anger, sorrow, and pity. The scene changed then, the solemn grandeur of the Great Library transforming into the garish brightness of the casino game room. In it she saw the blank faces of those hundreds of people from her world..._her_ people. Only, this time, she saw something different. There was a strange glow emanating from some of the people, and it traveled from their faces down through their bodies. She followed the glow's path, noting how it seemed to just absorb into the square tiles.

This was something she had missed when she had been herded through the game room those past two times. This was how they harvested the emotions from her people. Suddenly the absence of footwear on all of the oysters made a lot more sense. They were being drained. Like a vampire would drain his victim of all the blood, this cruel room sucked the emotions right out its victims until there was nothing left but empty husks to throw away. She had no idea how it was done or what sort of technology could do such things, but that did not matter. What mattered was that her people, whom she had sworn to protect, were being systematically erased and then destroyed.

But self-doubt had her in its iron-grip. "No," she cried weakly, shaking her head. "I can't do this. It's not possible."

"What makes you think that? You are a Vampire Slayer!" the Cheshire declared.

Alice threw her hands into the air. "But how am I to save them all? That would mean I would pretty much have to overthrow the Queen of Hearts!" Now that was a fanciful idea.

The Cheshire did not say anything. Its iridescent blue-green gaze merely continued to pierce through her. She felt ageless power and knowledge wash over her through those gleaming cat's eyes.

Alice shook her head, a mixture of incredulity and dread on her features. "That's it, isn't it? You want me to overthrow an established regime which has been in power for almost two-hundred years and managed to destroy all of this beautiful kingdom and its people," she said while motioning towards the ruins of the Kingdom of the Knights dotting the landscape before her. "Even when the crazy bitch has an even crazier and sadistic pet rabbit-man who, oh yeah, just happens to possess the ability to hand my ass to me." She massaged the bridge of her nose and released a hissing breath.

"This is not the first time a Slayer has ever squared off against an opponent who boasted far more strength than her. Did not your own commander fight and defeat a hellgod?" the Cheshire pointed out.

The girl let out an ironic snort. "Firstly, I'm not Buffy Summers. Secondly, you do know how that fight ended, right? She died." She did not bother mentioning that Buffy also had been resurrected some three months afterward by her friends. The Cheshire, no doubt, was aware of that.

"You do not fear death, Alice Hamilton," the Cheshire declared sternly.

"What?" Alice replied, her brow furrowing. "Says who? Of course I fear death."

The being shook its head and disappeared in a wisp of smoke only to materialize right upon Alice's slender shoulders. Its tail loped around her neck like a great, furry necklace and its forepaws extended down her upper arms. In spite of all that, the thing felt weightless, almost as if it were not there at all.

"Not as much as you fear failure," it whispered. "But to admit defeat before the battle has even begun, to not even try, is that not what you mortals also call failure? Do not make me recite a list of platitudes, young lady, I beg you."

Alice closed her eyes. As much as she loathed admitting it, the annoying cat-god-thing had struck a chord within her. She was afraid of failure. She was scared beyond belief of letting down those who had come to depend on her. This idea of overthrowing the Queen of Hearts just seemed so vast, so beyond her scope, that her all-too-logical mind could not see how it could be accomplished. She had convinced herself narrowing her task down to rescuing just one man was feasible. But saving all of those people in one fell swoop did not sound possible. It sounded like that was not all she was expected to do either. She was apparently expected to topple the government, too. How could she do all of that by herself?

"Silly Slayer," the Cheshire admonished in a surprisingly affectionate tone, whisking off her shoulders to circle around her head. "What made you think you were being forced to do this alone?"

It evaporated in a wisp of purple smoke. Almost immediately after, someone began frantically calling out Alice's name. All thoughts of deposing monarchies flew from the girl's mind and a relieved smile broke out on her face when she realized who was calling for her.

Hatter had come back safe.

* * *

Review please!


	18. The Point of No Return

Warning to all, there be some angst up ahead...

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**Chapter XVII: **The Point of No Return

Dormie had returned far quicker than Hatter had hoped and with better news than the teashop owner had dared to expect. The young man's heart had soared as the dwarfish man told him in his high, squeaky voice that Dodo was interested in making the deal. Hatter figured the allure of holding the Stone of Wonderland must have been too great an offer for the avaricious man to pass up.

He patiently listened to hear an outline of terms and conditions as was Dodo's usual wont. Much to his surprise, there were none. Apparently, they would be sending an agent along to escort them to meet with none other than Caterpillar himself. Hatter even had the choice of the meeting place, which he was to relay to Dormie who would then spirit the information away to Dodo. Hatter knew he could not sit around in the city waiting for the agent. He had to return to the fortress, otherwise Alice would head back to the casino on another daft and ill-fated mission of rescue. So, while he was wary of telling Dormie about the Kingdom of the Knights, he knew there really was no other choice in the matter. He kept quiet about Charlie, however.

Once the exchange finished, Hatter had immediately begun jogging back to the boat. All the while, his sense of dark intuition began whispering that something about the whole deal was off. The ease with which the deal had been struck somehow did not sit well with him. Dodo would have to be seething with rage and resentment towards him and most definitely Alice, considering their last meeting ended up with him being kicked into a wall by the petite oyster girl. But there was no time to undo what had been done. He would simply have to stop second-guessing himself. He was just feeling jumpy and apprehensive since everything else in his life of late seemed to be going wrong. Now that something was going right for once, it was only natural he treat it with a degree of suspicion.

Once he reached the other side of the lake, he secured the boat by tying the rope around the thick trunk of a tree, but he did not bother draping huge leaves over it. His heart was beginning to throb with worry, tormenting him with the thought that Alice might not be there when he returned. He hoped that cooling her heels with Charlie back at the encampment might also cool that driving, stubborn, reckless urge of hers to go galloping back to the casino.

But, this was Alice Hamilton, a girl who, once she got an idea in her head, would apparently stop at nothing to see it come to fruition even if it involved possible decapitation. Honestly, such determination would be admirable if it did not seem to constantly put her in mortal peril. Of course, this was also a girl who killed demons and vampires for a living. She was _accustomed_ to dealing with mortal peril.

_Not really the type of girl you should be falling for, mate,_ that dratted voice called Common Sense noted ironically. Well, it was too late for that; far too late.

Fortunately, the sun was still sitting in the sky, bathing the world in a deep golden glow when Hatter made it back to the encampment. Unfortunately, neither Alice nor Charlie was in sight. There was a pile of fresh kindling sitting in the fire pit, so it was evident that someone had been here not too long ago. His stomach clenched and his heart dropped as the worst conclusions jumped to the forefront of his thoughts.

But then he heard the faint sounds of Charlie's voice singing that loony song of his amidst intermittent snores. Hatter quickly made his way to the old man's hammock, and shook his head in exasperation at seeing the old knight snuggled up in the contraption with his dirty old stuffed bear clasped tightly to his chest.

How could the knight be sleeping when he was supposed to be watching over Alice? Hatter blew out a frustrated, hissing breath through gritted teeth and leaned down close to the knight's snoring face. "Charlie!" he shouted in a volume which was better reserved for someone ten feet away rather than a hairsbreadth.

The knight's eyes snapped open and he unleashed a shocked and frightened yelp as he lunged away from the offending, loud voice. The hammock tipped, sending the old man tumbling unceremoniously onto the ground.

Hatter did not feel one bit of sympathy for the man as he groaned in pain and pulled himself up from the dirty ground. He merely glared at the knight as he said, "You're supposed to be keeping an eye on Alice, Charlie."

The knight froze, a sheepish expression overcoming his face, before feebly raising up a finger in his defense. "I know what you're thinking, but, I wasn't asleep. I merely let my soul lift out of its mortal shell to stand sentry on a higher plane." He then smiled apologetically as he dusted himself off.

Hatter waved the excuse away. "Where's Alice?" he asked in a tightly controlled voice.

"Oh, I took the lady to see the armory earlier and she decided she wanted to brush up on her swordsmanship skills. She's around here somewhere, I imagine," Charlie replied, glancing around the encampment. With a nervous chuckle he then added, "I suppose I shall begin roasting the rest of the meat for supper, then…yes, I think I'll do that."

Hatter sighed heavily as the knight slunk away, no doubt wanting to put some distance between himself and the displeased teashop owner. The news that Alice had gotten hold of a weapon was not exactly as encouraging as Charlie must have thought it would be. It sounded to Hatter as if she was preparing for a more violent infiltration of the casino than her last visit. But night had not yet fallen, and so there was still a chance the girl had kept to her word and was patiently waiting for his return. All he would have to do was find her, and hope that his news of the Resistance's promise of aid would appease her.

"Alice!" he called out.

He started walking with no specific direction in mind, trying to think of where he would go if he wanted to play around with a sword. Considering that he had never actually played with a sword, he did not really know where an appropriate spot to practice fighting with a blade would be. He called out her name a few more times, unconsciously venturing into the woods ringing around the encampment.

Each time he called and received no answer, his heart skipped a beat. Panic and worry, two emotions he had just about had enough of, were starting to gain momentum. But then, after about the fifth time he called for her, she answered.

"Up here!" he heard her yell. It came from the direction of a narrow, jagged pathway leading up a very steep hill. His body screamed its exhaustion and hunger to him, telling him there was no way it was going up some barmy hill after all he had put it through today. Hatter studiously ignored his body's complaints. Alice was up there, and he was going to her. Period.

He huffed the entire way up and cursed her choice of practice area. Everything in his body hurt, even places he did not think could get muscle cramps. _Bloody hell, she made it up here and she didn't get any rest at all last night. Slayer stamina must be amazing._ He could not help but let his thoughts stray towards what other things Slayer stamina could be good for.

"Good news," he announced when he came close to the top. "The Resistance wants to help. They're sending an agent along who will take us to see Caterpillar."

The hill smoothed out into a wide plateau which afforded a stunning vista of the Kingdom of the Knights in all its ancient, crumbling glory. Alice was standing close to the other edge, a long, slim bladed sword held in her right hand. She was wearing the purple coat again, the ends of which flapped in the breeze around her upper thighs. Her dark hair swirled around her as she turned around to face him and Hatter was immediately struck mute at the vision she presented. Limned by dying sunlight, the girl looked like something so rare and too beautiful for this world. She seemed almost to be lit up within as the dazzling gold of the sun raked over her fair skin, making it luminous.

_The shiny little pearls…_Oh, she shined as if she held a mountain of pearls inside her. He wanted to capture this moment. How long he stood staring at her, he did not know. An eternity could have passed for all he noticed. His heart was beating fiercely, singing almost.

"Hatter?" she inquired, her eyes glinting with something akin to amusement.

He snapped out of his daze and shook his head. "Um, that's quite a steep hill," was his rather inelegant reply.

A ghost of a smile flitted over her lips and she slowly approached him. "I just needed to clear my thoughts a bit. It's been a somewhat overwhelming day," she confided wearily, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

His gaze drifted down to the sword in her hand. How was it that her hand holding a weapon looked so fitting? She was such a small, dainty little thing one would think weapons of warfare would look completely out of place with her. But Hatter knew the façade of fragility was just that: a façade. Underneath that ingenious pretense was a frame of tempered steel. She might bend, but she would not break. His heart twisted at those thoughts.

"You need a sword for that?" he asked, his voice clipped and hoarse.

The girl shrugged, tipping the sword up as if to inspect the blade. Her blue eyes traveled its length before sliding over to meet Hatter's gaze. "Practicing the fighting skills is like any other form of exercise. It helps clear the mind and bring about focus. Slayers are naturally attuned to all weapons, and we treat them almost like extensions of our own bodies. When we spar or fight, we can let our instincts take over. It's like conscious thought isn't necessary, almost," she explained in a solemn voice.

"Oh," Hatter commented uneasily.

She lowered the blade and dropped her gaze to the ground. In a small murmur, he heard her say, "I was beginning to fear you weren't coming back." Her voice carried a strong flavor of anguish.

He bristled, his pessimistic mind completely misunderstanding the statement. "Still don't trust me?" he grumbled sulkily.

Her head responded with the briefest of shakes before she raised her face up and he immediately felt contrite when he saw her blue eyes shine with wetness. "I was worried. I was afraid something had happened to you."

Hatter felt that curious sensation again, like all his organs were somersaulting inside of him.

She wiped at her eyes and then abruptly steered the subject away from her concerns for his well-being. "So, uh, this agent…how soon until he gets here?"

"I don't know. They can move pretty fast when they need to, I'd wager, but I probably wouldn't expect him until morning," he answered. In any case, he hoped the agent would not turn up until morning. Hatter could stand to have a little bit of peace with Alice. Almost the sum of their time together had been taken up by evading or, in some cases, diving headfirst, into perilous situations. The previous night they had spent talking at the campfire had been a nice respite, but it had been somewhat spoiled by the mind-blowing story Alice had told him about herself and her job back in her home world.

"You're going to join them, aren't you?" Alice remarked knowingly, her head turned back towards the view of the Kingdom of the Knights. "You're going to fight alongside them." Her voice was soft, resigned.

Hatter sighed, his own eyes traveling to take in the stunning view of those enormous monuments. Seeing their solemn beauty rekindled the hope and purpose which he had believed had been destroyed years ago. Yes, he was going to fight alongside them, and possibly die, if he had to. He had calmly accepted that fact in a way the Hatter from a week ago never would have.

"I have to try," he told her grimly. "I've lived my life playing both sides of the court. I thought it was the only way I could stay alive." He shook his head in self-directed disgust. "I convinced the Hearts I was working for them while I fed their enemies. Those days are over…I can't do it anymore." He swallowed and clenched his fists, suddenly overcome with a sense of shame and remorse.

Alice's soft touch made him freeze. She was touching his cheek, gently coaxing him to face her. Her eyes glittered with compassionate understanding. "Hatter, don't tell me that you believe any of that shit Dodo said about you was true. I may have just met the guy once, but it seems to me he's got a hell of a lot less integrity than you. Not to mention, his job seems a great deal comfier and safer than yours. I mean, playing double agent means double the danger. Not many people would have the guts to do that, least of all Dodo," she asserted, her voice contrarily hard and gentle at the same time.

Hatter vehemently shook his head. "No, you don't understand, I wasn't even sure where my loyalties really lay. I used to think I would just throw my lot in with the winning side," he admitted. Now she was sure to turn away from him, but he had been unable to stop the stream of words. It was almost like they had been bursting to be free from his thoughts.

Alice cocked her head, her pondering eye raking over him. "Well," she said slowly. "Do you feel that way now?"

He shook his head. "No. Even if the Resistance may not win…I'm still with them," he declared.

The girl's soft pink lips curled up into a triumphant smile. "There it is, then," she simply stated. Her smile then tightened and her eyes darkened ominously. "And it looks like I'll be fighting alongside you." Her gaze drifted down to the sword in her hands.

Hatter blinked in astonishment for a few moments. His gut twisted with foreboding. "What? No, no, you don't have to do that, Alice. This isn't your fight," he insisted, a desperate note to his voice. He wanted her to stay thoroughly out of harm's way from this point until he could deliver her safely home. Well, of course, her home was no safer than Wonderland, less safe, even. But this was not her battle to fight.

"But it is," Alice countered. She did not sound argumentative, just firm and resigned, almost as if it this was a truth she had railed against herself and had only just come to grudgingly accepting it. "It's as much my fight as it is yours."

"If this is about your father…"

"It's not about my dad," Alice cut him off. "Well," she backtracked sheepishly, "it is partially about my father, but not completely. It's all the others, too…the oysters…my people."

Hatter almost slapped himself upside the forehead for totally overlooking the fact that the oysters were people from her world. He should have seen this coming. Perhaps he had seen it coming, but he would not allow himself to acknowledge it.

"But, Alice, they…" He searched for a plausible counter argument, anything to keep this precious little oyster away from all paths of war and death. "You don't even know them," he ended up lamely pointing out. The excuse was a pitiable one, and he was well aware of that.

The girl cocked an eyebrow. "And you are on speaking terms with every single one of those refugees, I take it?" she countered sardonically.

_Damn it,_ Hatter silently swore. She had him there.

"You and I both know you don't fight for a cause merely on behalf of people you know or care about. What do you think I do on a nightly basis back in my world? My sister Slayers and I fight things which are largely written off as legends and myths, Hatter. Do you think, then, that we get recognition for what we do? Do you think that whenever we prevent an apocalypse we get a parade or a banquet in our honor?"

She turned away from him, then, stomping away in her frustration which could either be directed towards him or the grim facts of her life. She halted a few paces away from Hatter, her back turned to him and her body suddenly trembling with an inexplicable grief. "I've buried girls who've died saving the world…who've died to keep a world turning for billions of people they don't know and never would have. Billions of people who are never going to thank them for it. It's really unfair sometimes, you know." Her voice cracked and Hatter found himself at her side in an instant, his arms coming to wrap around her shoulders. She eased into his embrace, her body sagging against his as if she had been waiting for it all along.

"But it doesn't matter. Because, in the end, saving the world really does everyone a favor, including the Slayers," she continued, her voice becoming faintly ironic. "I know that saving these people seems somewhat less significant in retrospect, you know, in comparison to saving the world, but…they're my people, Hatter. I've sworn to defend and protect them."

Her words humbled him and though he still did not want her to fight this battle, he felt all his protests wither away under the weight of her conviction. His heart swelled up within his chest and he took a moment to just revel in the feel of her cocooned in his arms. It felt like she belonged there. "Alice," he whispered, uncertain of how to respond to all of that.

The girl wiped at her eyes and shook her head. "Wow, sorry, I didn't mean to get all creepy and intense like that. I think I'm really tired," she said softly.

"It's okay," he assured her, stroking her silky dark hair.

"Anyway, apparently that's the whole reason I'm in Wonderland," the girl muttered. "Fate and destiny, blah blah blah."

Hatter frowned, and a shudder of unease ran down his spine. "What do you mean?" He gently spun her around to face him, his voice deadly serious as he repeated the question.

The girl bit down on her lip. "Um, I'm not sure if I'm supposed to tell you about it," she mumbled awkwardly.

"You can't just throw around those words and then leave me hanging like that, Alice." He was hard pressed not to shake the answer out of the girl. Besides, she could toss him off the hill if she was so inclined, so he thought it best he keep his act of persuasion limited to a hard stare down.

The girl fidgeted uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze before finally relenting. "Okay, so I may have…received some visits from one of your oh-so-charming deities during my stay here in Wonderland," she confessed.

_Deities? What…oh, fuck me, she doesn't mean…_ "Alice," he said, closing his eyes. "Are you saying you've had visits from…the Cheshire?"

"Oh, so you _do_ call it that," she mused.

Hatter's entire body went numb and his mouth dropped open. The noisy traffic of thought in his head silenced under the weight of this knowledge. His nerveless hands fell from Alice's shoulders to dangle at his sides.

"You're acting like that's a bad thing, and it's freaking me out," Alice remarked, her brow knitting together into a deep frown of concern.

"That's because it _is_ a bad thing," Hatter asserted, surprised he was able to find his voice. Panic and despair quickly began ripping his gut to shreds. His legs suddenly felt wobbly, like someone had turned his bones to jelly.

"What?" Alice queried, clearly confused. "It's not evil, is it? Because it didn't feel evil to me…kind of annoying, though."

"Oh fuck, Alice," he cried. "Please, tell me you're joking. Tell me you didn't really get visited by the Cheshire." With the lack of anything more productive to do, he pulled his hat off and ran his shaking hands through his hair.

The girl's mouth opened, but all that came out was a huff of frustration. After a beat, she asked, "What, Hatter? What's so bad about being visited by the Cheshire?"

Hatter very nearly crushed his beloved hat with the strength of his right fist, which was currently tightly wound around the brim. "It's a very bad omen, Alice. You have to understand, I'm not really a superstitious man, okay. So when I tell you something is a bad omen, it's a bloody fucking horrible omen." Panic bubbled over like a pot of water left over the fire too long. He began to pace, his chest tightening and making it hard to draw breath.

"Will you calm down, please, and explain to me why this is a bad omen?" Alice requested. "And quit abusing your hat."

He drew in a deep breath and just barely managed to gain control over his raging nerves. He halted and turned around to face the girl. "In our history there've been heroes…people who've done great things in Wonderland. Some of these people are said to have been visited by the Cheshire who, it's said, gave them grand tasks or purposes."

"Okay, and…?" Alice pressed.

"They died, okay? They did the things they set out to do, but they always died either during or immediately after those things….except for one, and she came bloody close to losing her head," he informed her, his voice filled with distress.

"The Alice of Legend," Alice murmured.

Hatter nodded, his throat having grown tight and tangled with anxiety to the point where speech was temporarily impossible. He watched Alice absorb this information, her face curiously impassive. His torrent of emotions was so loud that it effectively drowned out whatever she might have been feeling.

"Well," Alice said tentatively. "If she lived, it stands to reason I will, too. I mean, it basically wants me to finish what she started, it seems."

Hatter groaned at hearing that. "No." He looked up at her, feeling his heart crack at the sight of her.

"Stop looking at me like that," she snapped. "I'm not going to drop dead." She lifted up the sword, flexing her wrist in such a way that the blade flipped around in her grasp.

"Alice, could, you, perhaps just sit this out...?" Hatter asked in a strained voice, walking up to her. He threaded his fingers with the hand which did not hold the sword and settled for wrapping his hand around the hand which was occupied by the hilt of the weapon.

The girl's eyes widened as if the suggestion was preposterous. "And leave you all to do the fighting by yourselves?" She paused for a moment, almost as if she were actually considering the idea. When she shook her head and shot him a defiant look, Hatter felt his heart sink. "No, I can't do that. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe it wouldn't be possible without me? Maybe I'm here to give you guys the edge you need…to…be your catalyst. I mean, how long have you guys been fighting against the queen? No offense, but it doesn't seem like you guys have made much headway in that regard."

Though it was harsh, her words rang with a morbid note of truth. The Resistance had been struggling to stay afloat for years under the might of the Queen of Hearts. But now that they had the Stone of Wonderland, there might be a chance for them to finally break free of those chains and end her tyrannical reign once and for all.

"We have the Stone of Wonderland," he reminded her.

Alice looked away and then back at him, her expression far more composed than his likely was. "But what if it's not enough? I'm not being arrogant here or anything, I'm just…ugh…I'm just dealing with the cards I've been dealt. And it seems like I've been given the card that says 'break the stalemate' or whatever." She sighed deeply. "I'm not saying I like it, okay? I just know from personal experience that sometimes fate throws some curveballs your way that you can't evade."

"I don't care," Hatter blurted, the words coming out before he even realized he had thought them.

"What?" Alice huffed in amazement. "You just stood there and told me how you felt about finally helping all those refugees. I know you care, Hatter. Don't stand there and tell me you don't care about how the battle ends."

He flinched and rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. "I mean, yes, I care about how it all turns out, but…" For some reason, the words got stuck in his throat. He could not make himself say that victory was not worth the cost of her life or even the potential of costing her life. He would rather the Queen of Hearts rule for a thousand years with her glittering iron fist than see Alice die trying to overthrow her.

"But what?" Alice asked quietly, reaching up to pull his face to her. "Hatter?"

He sighed wearily and leaned forward to rest his forehead against her own and breathed in her sweet, feminine scent. "I can't...I don't want you to get hurt," he murmured. Again, trepidation over this new and frightening territory of deep emotion prevented him from being completely forthright.

"I'll be fine," she whispered, as if she understood what he was trying to say.

The nearness of her was intoxicating, and, quite frankly, Hatter did not know how much longer he could control himself. Every fiber of his being was urging him to close the minuscule distance between their lips. His blood pulsed rapidly, echoing the nervous thumping of his heart. He almost imagined each beat of that muscular organ was bidding him in a desperate mantra: Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her…

To his immense shock (but certainly not to any sort of displeasure) Alice was the one to move first. It was the slightest of pressures at first, like a soughing breath of air, when her lips brushed up against his. The kiss was hesitant, unsure, barely hinting at the desperation and yearning it concealed underneath the smooth pinkish-red skin. But, soon enough, the hesitance was overruled, and their lips practically melded together. A dull thud told him she had let the sword tumble to the ground. Her hands loped around his neck while his hands found themselves wounding tightly in her mane of dark silk.

Hatter's stomach practically exploded with fluttery sensations and his heartbeat almost tripled its normal rate. His brain was so stunned at this unexpected turn of events that it took a few moments to fully catch up to reality. He was kissing Alice…kissing which the oyster girl herself had initiated. A thrill of elation ran through him, prompting him to pull the girl flush up against him, and she seemed only too willing to oblige. Every patch of bare skin her fingers touched tingled with sensations of fire and ice mixed together.

"I think your luck is finally changing," he found himself whispering against her lips once they pulled apart from the kiss out of the mutual need for oxygen. He was almost panting, as was she, and he reckoned the world was spinning before his very eyes with Alice at the center of it.

She let out a breathy laugh in response to his softly spoken, but extremely well-placed, comment. The pale skin of her cheeks had flushed in the most becoming way. Those rosy plumes brightened the color of her deep blue eyes, though the irises were slightly smaller than usual as a result of the dilation of her inky black pupils. She was absolutely mesmerizing.

"Wow…I…uh…wow," Alice stammered. "Did that just happen?" Her voice sounded dazed.

"Yeah, I believe it did," Hatter replied, unconsciously running his fingers through her hair. How had he never noticed how wonderful and soft her hair was before? He seemed to not be able to touch it enough.

He frowned at the troubled look which arose in her eyes. Dark doubt assailed him. Was she regretting having kissed him? "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she responded quickly; too quickly for him to trust the veracity of that claim. She then sighed and her head dipped slightly. "I mean, it's just…that was amazing…I've never had a kiss like that before." Her voice was colored with awe, but there were disconcerting plaintive undertones to it.

Hatter could not help but smirk with pride at the compliment, though. _Ha, take that you fop of a prince! _He ran his finger down the side of Alice's cheek, tracing her now faintly swollen lips. "So, what's the problem, then?"

The girl gulped nervously. "Don't you think this is a little fast, Hatter? I mean, good lord, we met yesterday morning and then I wasn't even single," she pointed out.

Whatever hopes had been brought to life by that kiss slowly began to wither and die. He swallowed down the rising tide of pain and rejection. "I'm sorry. I thought…never mind," he mumbled, pulling away from her. He forced his features to display an expression of calm acceptance. She could not be permitted to see how much her rebuff stung him.

He had been about to turn away to walk back the encampment when Alice's hand shot out to grab his arm and tug him back towards her. Reluctantly, he drew his eyes up to meet hers. There was a legion of contrary emotions roiling in her gaze ranging from confusion and fear to affection and bliss. "Please, don't walk away from me," she implored in a meek voice. "I…I'm just not used to feeling so many things at once so…fast. It kind of scares me. But…" She paused in her struggle for words, her bottom lip quivering. "But I can't deny that it's…real. All my instincts are telling me it's genuine, what I feel…for you," she finally admitted. Her hand reached up to softly touch the side of his face. "I only met you yesterday. Logically, I know that, but…at the same time it feels like…"

"A lifetime," Hatter intervened as comprehension of her turmoil finally dawned upon him.

Alice nodded in emphatic agreement.

Hatter sighed and settled his hands to rest upon the soft swell of the girl's hips underneath her slender waist. "Alice, I…we don't have to do anything you don't want to," he assured her. "Frankly, this is all new territory for me, probably newer for me than it is for you. And I'd be lying if I said these…feelings…didn't scare me, too." His hands slid up to cup her face. "But I know what I feel is real even if it is new…and I don't think I want it to go away even if I thought it could." He did realize he was still tiptoeing around the word which expressly verbalized and encompassed everything he felt for her, but this was the best he could conjure up at the moment.

"I don't either," she agreed with a mixture of solemn acceptance and burgeoning anticipation. She glanced away from Hatter for a beat and then returned her gaze. He smiled when she started biting down on her bottom lip. It was such a cute and charming display of nerves. "So, what do we do about this?"

Hatter cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I don't know about you, but I was thoroughly enjoying the snogging," he quipped, grinning wickedly.

She playfully smacked him on the shoulder as if affronted by the riposte. Her eyes danced with mirth, however, which indicated that she was not quite as opposed to the idea as she put on. But then her head cocked to the side and a strange look flashed over her face. "Charlie's looking for us," she announced.

Hatter blinked in bewilderment. "What? How do you know?" he asked. He had not heard the knight calling for them.

Alice merely gestured to her ears with an amused smile on her face. "Supersonic hearing, remember?" she reminded him.

"Oh, right," Hatter said. How could he have forgotten about that? It was probably something he ought to remember if things were to progress between them as he hoped they would.

"It would seem dinner is ready," she informed Hatter. She did not show any sign of moving, though, which seemed to imply it was his choice whether they stayed to continue their previous activities or left to see to other physical needs.

His stomach took the opportunity to gurgle its acute displeasure at having not been seen to all day. He rolled his eyes and groaned as the hunger urge overruled the urge to resume the snogging session.

Alice giggled when her own stomach grumbled. "Come on," she urged laughingly, grabbing his hand and pulling him along down the path.

Charlie did not so much as bat an eye when he glanced up at the two walking towards the fire pit, their hands very clearly linked together. Hatter wondered if the old knight had divined the nature of his and Alice's feelings before even the two of them had realized it. For a man who had lived alone save for a couple of horse companions for over 150 years, he should have been astounded by such foresight. But he had learned earlier how incredibly shrewd the White Knight could be. It was rather uncanny, actually.

"I told you she was around here somewhere, Harbinger," the knight commented wryly.

"Harbinger?" Alice repeated in perplexed amusement as she stacked steaming borogove ribs onto a tin plate.

"Oh, yes, my new title," Hatter explained resignedly. Once she took her seat on a log, he started loading his own plate up with the delicious meat.

"Aw," Alice mock whined. "But I liked 'Vassal'. That had such a lovely ring to it."

Hatter did not bother to dignify that comment with a retort. He had completely given up on hoping that Charlie would ever address him by his real name.

Settling himself beside her on the log, he stole glances at her in between his bites of food. It was probably inappropriate to stare at a woman while she was eating, but he could not help himself. She took quick, small bites, munching slowly as if she were taking care to savor the flavors of the meat. He only tore his eyes from her when Charlie made the announcement that the horses had returned safe and sound.

"You left them at the casino?" Alice inquired incredulously, a piece of borogove held frozen before her mouth.

"Oh, not to worry, My Lady; wherever Archibald and Guinevere are they will know how to return home," Charlie insisted in a nonchalant voice.

"See, we weren't too sure if we would be able to get back out the way we had come in," Hatter explained. He did not add that they had also been uncertain as to whether they would leave the casino at all. "So, we left them untied right outside the wall."

"Oh," Alice said, mollified. "Well, that's nifty." She was quiet for a moment before posing a very serious question. "Do they talk, too?"

"Not that I know of," Charlie answered, stroking his goatee wistfully. "Of course, they may speak only to other horses or other animals. How are we to know of such things?"

Hatter's tight grip on the tin plate nearly broke it in half once the subject of talking animals came up. It only brought to mind the fact that Alice had been visited by one particular talking animal, or, at least something which sported the guise of one. He had not forgotten the issue of the Cheshire's dangerous interest in the girl, which tied his stomach into tight knots of dread.

Alice and Charlie continued discussing talking animals. The old knight even began regaling her with some fanciful tales and legends of sentient critters, though at least none of them were about the Cheshire. They were both oblivious to Hatter's mounting agitation which seemed to mirror his declining appetite. Though his food had only been half consumed, he found it no longer enticed him, and politely asked to be excused.

"Hatter?" Alice questioned in worry as he walked away from the campfire.

The sun had finally gone to rest, but night did not yet prevail. The sky was a dusky mix of violet, blue, and dark pink with a faint array of stars just starting to peak out. There was still light enough that Hatter was able to traverse through the woods with minimal difficulty. He knew Alice was following him. She was making no effort to keep her movements silent as he knew her capable of doing.

"Hatter, stop!" she demanded imperiously. "What's wrong? Was some of that borogove not fully cooked?"

She thought he was ill and had courteously gone off into solitude to vomit up the contents of his stomach. Well, he certainly did feel a sensation of nausea, but he knew it was nothing to do with the food.

"I'm fine," he replied flatly. He lowered himself to sit upon the mossy trunk of a tree which jutted out almost parallel to the ground before curving upwards to climb into the sky.

Alice came up to stand in front of him. She then crouched down to peer up into his eyes, which were trained towards the ground. Even in the dimming light he could see her brow was creased with concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Alice…" he stammered uncomfortably. "It's...I'm really still not keen on you having talks with the Cheshire, all right?" He reached out to stroke that soft hair of hers. "It's not fair," he found himself whispering bleakly.

"Hatter, please stop with the doom and gloom, okay?" Alice asked. "I don't plan on doing any dying. Hell, I'd be breaking the first rule of slaying if I did." She lifted up a hand to cover the one which was running along her dark locks.

"You actually have to have a rule for not dying?" Hatter asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, we do."

In spite of himself, the young man smiled, although there was little humor in it. "No offense, love, but that's not all that encouraging." It was not until the words were already out that he realized he had used a very intimate term of endearment.

Her breath hitched, no doubt in response to what he had called her. But then she waved it away, probably thinking he had not meant to say it. He really had not meant to say it. The sneaky word had just slipped out past his defenses.

"Just trust me, okay?" Alice implored him. "I'm a big girl."

Hatter chortled at that remark. "No, you're not. You're actually quite tiny," he pointed out.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, haha," she said sarcastically. "You know what I mean, you smart-ass."

She stood and then plopped down next to him on the tree trunk with a huge sigh. "I'm really not used to this, at all," she remarked dejectedly.

"Used to what?" Hatter asked.

Her face turned to him, and her eyes ran him up and down. "People worrying about me. That's kind of why I never told my mom about my real job. A lot of Slayers do tell their families, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. And it's not like she's real over-protective, which one would think she would be since losing my dad and me being her only child."

Hatter saw the way her eyes darkened with sorrow at the mention of her mother. He slid his hand over to grasp hers, which was tightly gripping her knee. "You miss her," he said softly.

The girl nodded. "It's been just the two of us for so long. God, she must be freaking out right now," the girl groaned, her hand reaching up to rub at her eyes. "She probably thinks I've been murdered or kidnapped or something."

Hatter's heart clenched in pity for this woman whom he had never met. Yes, she probably was indeed suffering an agony of worry and fear over her daughter's disappearance. And, yet, there was still a selfish voice whispering to him to keep Alice here with him, away from her bloody world of undead foes and rampant apocalyptic battles. It forced him to acknowledge that death was probably not the thing he should fear taking Alice from him. There was also the simple fact that she was from another world, and she had people who loved her and would dearly miss her over there should she stay in Wonderland. But still he recoiled at the thought of her returning home.

_Why did this happen? Whose bloody idea was it for me to fall for a girl from the oyster world? I'll bet someone's laughing at me up there,_ he grumbled to himself.

"What if I get stuck here?" Alice said. She smiled ruefully at Hatter. "Not that it would be so bad, but I don't have a purpose here other than deposing the Queen of Hearts, apparently. But once that's finished, what will I do?"

"I'll take care of you," Hatter avowed sincerely. "I'll make sure you're okay."

She gazed at him with trust and gratitude. "I know you will," she murmured, her face leaning closer to his.

There was no initial hesitance in the kiss this time. Instead there was an aching desperation to it, almost as if they both knew what time they had here together was infinitely precious and they were not to squander it. Their lips practically collided and both of them moaned in relief as their arms wrapped around each other. Alice's leg swung over him and she slid into his lap never once breaking the lip-lock.

Her tongue was like velvet against his lips and he snickered at the fact that it was hers which went probing first. Heat pooled into his belly and, rather more noticeably, southwards. Lust and desire were prompting his hands to roam over her sweet curves which were tantalizingly hidden underneath the thin fabric of that blue dress. His rough fingertips ran over the even thinner fabric of those raspberry leggings. His libido was begging him to trail his path up underneath the hem of the dress, but there was still a modicum of sense hanging on by a slim thread. He was not sure just how far the girl wanted to take things tonight.

_But there might not be another chance…you could at least have this one night with her,_ he thought to himself.

Conscious thought was suspended when Alice's hands wandered up underneath his silk shirt. Gooseflesh abounded where her fingers glided over his naked flesh and it amped up his libido almost tenfold. With a wordless growl, he deepened the kiss, very nearly grazing the back of her throat with his tongue.

Both of them had apparently forgotten they were situated upon the trunk of a tree with nothing for Hatter's back to be braced against. When his hand slid up her legs to cup her firm bottom, the girl's back arched, thrusting her pelvis forward and forcing him to lean back…into thin air. With a thump and dual cries of alarm and dismay, Hatter tumbled backward onto the hard ground and Alice landed on top of him.

"Fuck! Ow!" Hatter swore as a tree root dug into the small of his back, no doubt leaving a lovely imprint of itself.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Alice cried, panicked. She leapt off of him, which did ease the pressure in his back somewhat, but he lamented losing the feel of her legs straddling him. Apparently his lusty libido was completely unperturbed by the fall.

He grunted as he sat up, feeling much the same as he had after tumbling into the jabberwock pit. Gratefully accepting Alice's outstretched hand, he was pulled to his feet. She swept his hat up off the ground for him and handed it over.

"Guess we got a bit carried away," he noted breathlessly. His heart was still hammering away and he reckoned every bit of blood it pumped was headed in a southern direction. The extent of his arousal was still quite obvious. Even if Alice could not see how she much she had stimulated him, the girl would have had to have felt it when she had been straddling his lap. Unfortunately, it was too dark for him to make out if her skin was flushed, but he could hear her quick, panting breaths.

Alice snorted. "That is definitely the closest I've ever come to getting it on up against a tree," she remarked wryly.

"That could still be arranged," Hatter remarked with a raised eyebrow and a lascivious smirk. He sidled up to the girl and drew her into his embrace.

"Tempting," the girl replied, tilting her neck up to face him. She let out a frustrated whoosh of air. "But that little interruption reminded me of something very important. We don't have any sort of protection. I mean, considering that I did not make any plans of trans-dimensional travel, I didn't exactly pack my birth control pills, so I haven't taken any today or yesterday. I don't suppose you have any condoms in your pockets, do you?"

"What?" Hatter's features twisted with confusion. "What the hell are condoms? And what do you mean by 'birth control' pills?"

Alice's eyes widened with shock. "You don't have condoms here? What the hell do you use for protection during sex?"

Hatter shrugged. "I think there's some kind of a remedy women take to keep from getting pregnant, but they keep quiet about it."

Alice goggled at him, her mouth dropping open. "That's it?"

"Well, yeah," he said, wondering just what the problem was.

"But," Alice sputtered, clearly very rattled about the issue. "What about STDs?"

"What are those?" Hatter asked.

"Oh, Jesus," Alice muttered. "You're telling me you don't have any sexually-transmitted diseases over here? Illnesses you only get by having unprotected sex with an infected person?"

Hatter shook his head, frowning. "None that I know of. What, you have stuff like that in your world?" Her world was sounding more horrible with each new thing he learned about it. Not only was it apparently crawling with blood-sucking, nearly indestructible creatures, but now it was plagued by illnesses which one could contract simply by taking a tumble in the sack? What kind of madness was that?

"Well, I don't have any," she assured him. "But, yeah, they do exist in my world so we use condoms…well, technically men use condoms…to limit the spread of them. The condom is like a rubber sheath that goes over the penis and it catches the semen so it doesn't come in contact with the guy's partner. It also helps prevent pregnancy." She shook her head in bemused wonderment. "I can't believe you guys don't have those things."

Hatter, for his part, found it quite horrifying any man would put something like that over his member, especially for the act of lovemaking. How could one enjoy any of the sensations of sex with a rubber cover? "Well, that's just bloody stupid. And what was this about pills?" he asked.

"Oh, um, well, I take a pill every day to keep myself from…" She paused with an incredulous sigh, as if she could not believe she was explaining this. "I take a pill that keeps me from releasing eggs so that…well…when I have sex there won't be an egg around for any sperm to fertilize. And please don't tell me the mechanisms of reproduction are different, too, otherwise I think I'll just flip shit."

"No, that's pretty much how it works," Hatter told her.

Alice let out a relieved sigh. "Thank god, but, anyway the pill doesn't protect against STDs, though. And I have to take the pill every day for it to be most effective and, yeah, well, I didn't bring any with me so I've missed two days already."

"So, it's the pregnancy thing you're worried about and not these…STDs," Hatter worked out. He did realize that was probably a sensible thing to be concerned about even if his libido was howling with frustration and disappointment.

"Mainly, yeah," Alice said, nodding her head. "Damn it." It was a small bit of consolation to see that she was just as disappointed at having their mutual desires thwarted by such technicalities as he was.

Hatter glanced up at the now very dark sky lit up only by the blanket of stars and the lone moon. He sighed grimly. "It's just as well, I suppose. We both ought to be getting some sleep."

The trek back to the encampment was subdued. Hatter's body thrummed with the contradicting sensations of unrequited desires, rising fatigue, blissful contentment, and a gnawing sense of trepidation. His hand was once more entwined with Alice's, an unspoken symbol of the change in their relationship. Was there even a relationship? There was definitely something. But things were so jumbled and unpredictable right now. One or both of them might end up forfeiting their lives in the impending fight against the Queen of Hearts. Even if they both lived through the battle there was still the matter of Alice being an oyster who hailed from a completely different world. If Hatter had a lick of sense left to him, he would cut things off now so as to lessen the pain of a separation he viewed as all but inevitable.

But it was too late. His heart was already lost, completely and irrevocably swept up into that petite girl's unusually strong hands. There was no turning back the clock. As Alice had told him, fate had dealt him his cards. He did not have it in him to regret these past two days with this beguiling little oyster girl. The young man had felt more alive during his time with Alice than for most of his life.

Charlie was absent when they reached the dim, smoldering remains of the campfire. He was not in his hammock either which meant he was either off seeing to some personal needs or was caring for the horses. Hatter's tin plate of half-eaten borogove still sat upon the ground where he had left it next to the tin cup of water.

"Hatter?" Alice ventured in an uncharacteristically shy voice.

"Yeah?"

Biting on her bottom lip, the girl turned her hopeful gaze up to him. "Will you…stay with me tonight?" There was a strange vulnerability to her at that moment. It was a rare glimpse into the young woman who hid beneath the armor of preternatural strength and willful stubbornness.

He grinned, reaching down to cup her delicate chin. "If I must," he replied, pretending it was a grave chore she was asking of him. Although the thought of sleeping next to her and not being able to entertain any of the more naughty inclinations which ran through his mind sounded like it could be quite the torment.

Hatter followed her into the barn, quietly easing the wooden gate shut behind him. He shrugged off his brown leather jacket and folded it up atop the velvet coat which Alice had set upon a stack of wooden crates. He debated over whether or not to remove his silk paisley-patterned shirt, but then thought better of it. If they could not have sex, it was probably best they kept as much clothes on as possible to resist the temptation. Once he kicked his shoes off and set them beside Alice's scuffed up purple boots, he pulled the quilt back to climb onto the straw-filled mattress. He curled on his side, facing Alice, who smiled serenely back at him, reaching out to clasp his hand in her own. Almost as soon as his head sank into the pillow he felt his limbs and eyelids grow heavy.

"Thank you," the girl sleepily murmured.

"For what?" he asked, his voice sounding equally drowsy.

She let out a soft snort. "Why is it every time you do something heroic and I thank you for it you never seem to realize what it is I'm thanking you for?" Snuggling closer to him, she clarified her gratitude. "Thank you for coming to rescue me."

A giddy sensation of warmth draped over the lethargy taking hold of his body. He leaned forward to bestow a tender kiss on her forehead before declaring in a whispered voice, "I'll always come for you, Alice."

His chin nuzzled up against the crown of her head. "Always," he repeated before drifting off into sleep's waiting embrace.

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Haha, I'm such a tease, aren't I? My Alice may be different than the original, but she's still way too sensible to not think about such things like protection and birth control. Hope you enjoyed the bits of fluff and...playing...hehe...

Reviews are lovely little gifts so please tell me what you thought! We're almost to 100 reviews anyway!


	19. Coming to Light

Whoo, another lengthy one. I think I got on a roll and just couldn't stop haha. Enjoy!

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**Chapter XVIII: **Coming to Light

Alice could never have foreseen waking up to Hatter's deep, rhythmic breathing blowing strands of her own hair across her face. Truth be told, she never would have guessed she would be waking up next to Hatter, or, rather, with their limbs unfathomably intertwined like they had fallen asleep during a game of Twister. She may not have foreseen it, but she could most definitely get used to it. The girl could not recall the last time she had slept so soundly, and the much-needed rest had fully rejuvenated her exhausted mind, body, and soul.

Well, perhaps the rejuvenation could not be chalked up entirely to the rest, she noted wryly. The girl gently traced her sleeping companion's lips, parted just slightly in his sleep. The feel of those lips still lingered on her own, and her heart leapt in her chest. He was impossibly lovely in his sleep, she noticed with a silly smile of adoration on her face. His shock of chestnut hair was dashingly mussed up without the hat to give it shape.

Last night she found that this man touched a part of her which had heretofore been untouched by an entire slew of boyfriends. He made her feel things that even Jack, who she had once thought would be different from all the rest, had never come close to inciting within her. If she had not been so concerned about the matter of protection, it was highly probable she and Hatter would have made love last night. Her own audacity shocked her. There had been a few (_very_ few) points in her past associations with the opposite sex where she had jumped into the sack with a man more quickly than propriety entailed. But never before had she felt the urge to sleep with a man after barely two days of knowing him. Even if she had, she certainly would never have acted upon it. Such things were reserved for wanton, drunken one night stands, which was something she could safely say she had never done. But Alice had wanted to make love to him last night, and even now she found she was inundated with fantasies of the two of them divesting their clothes and drawing together with breathless moans. A delicious heat was winding its way through her body right down to her very core, causing her to unconsciously clutch her thighs together.

Hatter shifted around in his sleep. His leg was thrown over her body, with his bent knee pressed up against her lower abdomen. When he moved, the joint dug into her soft flesh, compressing a bladder which she only just discovered was very full.

Alice groaned quietly. She would rather stay in bed and just take pleasure in looking upon Hatter in this completely unguarded state (an act which she knew was fairly creepy), but the urge to void her bladder soon became too insistent to ignore. So, as unobtrusively as she could manage, she worked to untangle herself from Hatter's haphazardly positioned limbs without waking him up.

The girl pulled her boots on and, because the early morning air still carried a chill, grabbed the velvet coat where it lay beneath Hatter's leather jacket. Unfortunately, living in the remnants of a civilization which had, by all appearances, pre-dated modern plumbing meant very few options of where to take care of one of nature's baser urges. It was one of the few times other than that special few days out of the month where Alice lamented being a female. Having a penis made urination in the woods so much more convenient.

She stepped outside the gate and began quietly heading towards the trees, intending to go far out of the way for privacy's sake, when a succession of strange noises halted her in her tracks. First it was the sound of something like a weight being dropped up against a metal object and then the sound of something swinging in the air. Then that poor crow which was caught up in that suspended wooden cage began squawking rather loudly.

She frowned in confusion. What was all that about?

With a gasping cry, Charlie sat up so abruptly in his hammock that the thing spun in mid-air, completely detaching from one of the trees it was strung between and sending the old knight sprawling to the ground. Hatter awoke with a start, as well, although by virtue of being in a bed, it did not end up with him tumbling to the ground.

"Aw, shit, not again," the teashop owner groaned from behind her.

"What the hell was that?" Alice demanded, whirling around to face Hatter, who was stumbling to the other side of the bed towards his shoes.

"That was the West Wall!" Charlie cried out in alarm. He scrambled out into the middle of the encampment, barefooted and dressed in his white underclothes.

"What?" Alice said, still not comprehending what was going on.

"It's the security system he built," Hatter supplied while he sat on the bed, tying his shoes. "That was the alarm being triggered. Someone's broken through the perimeter. That's how we knew you had left yesterday morning."

Alice blanched. Seeing as how everyone was accounted for, there could then only be one explanation for the alarm being triggered. Someone had entered into the Kingdom of the Knights. Mad March's sinister ceramic visage flashed before her eyes and she met Hatter's dark brown gaze. A wordless exchange told her that he had thought the same thing.

"Shit," she cursed, turning around towards Charlie, who was headed towards his armor. His sword was next to the empty suit of armor in its sheath, and her vision immediately zoned in on it.

"Alice, wait!" Hatter's protest rang out as she started to run, almost as if he had guessed what her intentions to be. She ignored him. If it was Mad March who had finally discovered their hideout, the last place that assassin could be was in the vicinity of Hatter. She was the only one who had any chance of standing against the man/thing. Besides, he would only be too glad to spill Hatter's precious blood, and Alice would die before she allowed such a travesty come to pass.

"Charlie, I need your sword and for you to point me towards the West Wall," she curtly instructed, a strange tranquility descending upon her.

"Alice, no, what are you doing?" she heard Hatter demand, his voice tinged with distress.

She unsheathed Charlie's sword and dropped the scabbard to the ground. "If it's Mad March and his gang, I'll distract and hold them off. You two need to get out of here," she stated flatly. Slayer mode was starting to take over, rendering her voice more mechanical than normal. It was almost like she had stepped outside herself and was observing from the sidelines.

"You're not going out there alone," Hatter declared, his hand falling upon her left forearm and spinning her around. His hat had been shoved back on rather hurriedly so it did not sit very securely upon his head. "And I sure as bloody hell am not going to run off without you."

"He'll kill you," Alice told him soberly. "You know he will. At least me they'll probably want alive." If he kept these stubborn objections up, she would be forced to knock him unconscious and order Charlie to drag his body off to safety. The thought of causing him physical pain was not a desirable one, but she would do it in the interest of preserving his life. For Hatter's life had, of late, become more precious than her own.

"I'm not leaving you!" Hatter shouted, his dark eyes sparkling with anger and determination.

"Am I interrupting something?" a very familiar voice interjected from the western edge of the encampment.

Alice's jaw went completely slack. She, Charlie, and Hatter all turned as one to see none other than the Prince of Hearts himself purposefully striding towards them. Gone were the bright crimson suit set and the flouncy white shirt, replaced by slacks and a matching suit jacket the color of deep sangoire, a crisp white shirt, and a plain black tie. He stopped a few paces away from the trio, his countenance surveying them with an unreadable expression. His gaze did appear to linger upon Hatter's hand, which still gripped Alice's arm. Hatter must have noticed, for he stepped forward so that his body partially concealed the girl from view. She appreciated the protective gesture even though she knew that if Jack was given a mind to hurt her, she could easily take him down.

"Oh dear," Charlie murmured, seemingly uncertain how to handle the situation.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" the teashop owner inquired, doing nothing to disguise the hostility in his tone.

"That's none of _your_ concern," the prince retorted haughtily. He did not even deign to bestow a glance upon Hatter while he spoke. His eyes stayed trained upon Alice.

"Well, it _is_ mine," Alice cut in, stepping out from behind Hatter. She glanced up at him in a placating manner, trying to reassure him that she would be safe. "So, what _are_ you doing here, Jack?"

"Who is he?" Jack inquired, motioning towards Hatter.

"What's it to you?" Alice shot back, not quite in the mood for civility.

The prince shrugged, trying to give off an air of insouciance, but the tense set of his shoulders and jaw line had betrayed him. He had seen and marked the way the two had interacted even in those brief moments. No doubt he had been taught the value of reading people. It was a useful trait for one reared in royalty to cultivate. "You two seem rather friendly," he noted.

Alice huffed in disbelief. "Oh, don't tell me you're jealous! The man who is engaged to a duchess who looks like a goddess is worried about little ol' me," she taunted. She knew it was rather immature and tasteless to jeer at the man, but the vindictive side of her needed to have its due for once. She would worry about being gracious and civil later.

"He was two-timing you?" Hatter hissed. She heard his knuckles crack from behind her.

"Oh, well, technically, he was two-timing _her_, since she's his fiancé and all," Alice clarified in an overly loud voice. "Jack simply made me the 'other woman'."

Jack's cheek twitched and he shifted awkwardly. "You know that was just an act," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, like our whole relationship, apparently," Alice flung back at him. "Well played, I must say."

The flaxen-haired man at least bowed his head shamefully, showing that he did feel remorse over his actions. For the moment, the girl was unmoved by it. "I had my reasons for deceiving you," he claimed while fixing her with a desperate gaze which begged her understanding and forgiveness.

She nodded. "I'm sure you did," she mumbled dryly.

Jack sighed. "Look, Alice, you don't have much time. I've brought you a horse. We must leave immediately," he informed her, his tone suggesting he clearly expected her to just follow him without question.

"She's not going anywhere with you!" Hatter roared, stepping up next to Alice and putting his arm about her shoulder.

"Hear hear!" Charlie chimed in agreement, stepping up to join the two.

"You know she can't stay here!" Jack shot back in a sharp tone. He directed his attention to Alice. "I can take you to your father," he claimed.

It was like he had said the magic words. Suddenly, her caustic barbs melted away, and she felt her heart twist with painful nostalgia over hearing her father mentioned. Unconsciously her hand drifted down to her pocket where his watch still resided in a slight bulge of fabric.

She felt Hatter's fingers clamp down on her forearm. She laid her hand over his. "I need to know, Hatter. Please," she begged him in a whisper.

The teashop owner threw a hateful glare at the blonde man, but nodded at Alice, pulling his hand from its deathly tight grip on her arm. She walked up to Jack, still holding Charlie's sword, earning a bewildered frown from the prince. He had never seen her hold anything other than a wooden staff in some of their classes. The sight caught him off guard and he did not quite know what to make of it. She took a wretched kind of satisfaction in that.

"Okay, Jack, I'll bite. But I swear to god, if you are jerking me around, I will rip out your vocal cords and strangle you with them," she promised. Years of fighting alongside Sunnydale veterans had armed her with a vast repertoire of imaginatively gory threats. From behind her, Charlie gasped in horror and Hatter merely sniggered.

Her threat served to drain the color from her ex-boyfriend's already fair-toned face. He gulped, but then nodded. "It's the truth, Alice. He is alive and well, and, if you let me, I will take you to him," he confirmed in a rather tremulous voice.

Alice drew in a deep shuddering breath. "Where is he?" she questioned.

"We're moving him into the city. And if we hurry, you can see him by afternoon," Jack replied succinctly.

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean you're 'moving him'? And who is 'we'?"

"I have people helping me," Jack explained.

"What people?" Hatter asked in a low, dangerous voice. He had ventured up to the exchange between Alice and Jack.

Jack ignored him. "Do you want to see him or not?" he asked Alice. It was as if he were holding her father up on a string and dangling it just out of her reach. She loathed him for asking her in such black and white terms. Of course she wanted to see her father. Jack was well aware of that, and he was using it to manipulate her. What was worse was that part of her was giving into the manipulation.

She was in an agony of indecision. This was a chance to see her father who had been absent in her life for the past eleven years. This was a chance to restore the gaping hole he had left in her heart when he had disappeared. And, yet, doubt over Jack's trustworthiness, which had pretty much been non-existent in every other matter, anchored her feet to the ground. She clenched her free fist in frustration while the other one ground into the hilt of Charlie's sword.

Hatter moved up close to her to vocalize his distrust of the prince. "It's a trap, Alice. Don't trust him," he told her in a furious voice, his belligerent eyes glued to Jack.

Her…well, whatever Hatter was in the realm lying between platonic friendship and romance…had a valid point. But something within her rebelled at the idea that Jack intended to harm her or deliver her over to his mother. She remembered how strangely he had comported himself back in the throne room of the casino. The man had slipped her father's watch into her hands right under his mother's keen, unforgiving eyes and then had tried to give her a way out of her situation. Of course, in the end, she still ended up in the Truth Room and Jack had not been any help in getting her out of that. But she supposed he did try to get her back home.

She turned to Hatter, laying a calming hand on his shoulder. "He knows where my father is, Hatter," she said in a trembling voice. Uncertainty still wracked her tone, and the teashop owner could sense it.

"You don't know that for sure, Alice," he pointed out in a much gentler tone than he had been using when speaking to Jack. "He'll say anything to get his hands on the ring! He's manipulating you!"

While the manipulation was rather evident, Jack had made no mention of the ring. That was somewhat redeeming in Alice's opinion. "But he hasn't asked for the ring," she argued desperately. "He doesn't want the ring. Do you, Jack?" She turned to face the prince, eyeing him hopefully.

"Yes, I do," Jack stated brusquely.

She heard Hatter let out a huff of vindication, surprised the man had not just said _I told you so. _Gawking at Jack, Alice asked, "You do?" Her stomach quivered. Had this all been some elaborate scheme to try to wrest the ring from their hold and return it to the queen? If that was true, he had gone through an awful lot of trouble.

"It's all just an act!" Hatter spat in disgust.

"We need the ring to get you home," Jack reminded her, unperturbed. "The Looking Glass won't work without it."

"Shit, you're right," Alice muttered.

Her head whipped around when she heard Hatter stomp off a few paces in his fury, his hands thrown into the air as he whirled around and stomped right back to her. "Don't be fooled by this, Alice!" he pleaded. "He's working for his mother. Blood and water, remember?"

"Then why am I alone?" Jack countered with his eyes on Alice. He spoke levelly and logically as he challenged Hatter's valid accusations. "Why aren't there five-hundred Suits at my back? And how did I find you here, in the middle of the forest? Do you think I just followed my nose?"

A feeling of coldness fell over her at the last question. How had Jack been able to find them? If Mad March had been unable to track them to this hideout then she highly doubted the prince should be able to.

"How did you find us?" Hatter asked suspiciously.

"You sent for me," Jack declared.

Both Hatter and Alice were taken aback by that answer. The teashop owner's gaze went from Alice, who shrugged in confusion, and then back to Jack. "Come again?" he asked.

The corners of Jack's thin lips very nearly turned up into a cold smile. "I'm the agent who's supposed to escort you to Caterpillar," he informed them coolly.

Alice's breath hitched. She had completely forgotten about the Resistance agent who was supposed to be arriving here this morning for just that purpose. The dots had not been connected when Jack had shown up. Who would ever have expected the son of the Queen of Hearts would be a member of the Resistance? But, once she considered the possibility, some very strange details suddenly made a lot more sense. It explained his apprehensive behavior in the casino which went beyond simply being caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Alice had nearly blown his cover probably.

"You know Caterpillar?" Alice asked incredulously.

"Very well," Jack replied. "Caterpillar recruited me into the Resistance about five years ago." Inexplicably, Jack began walking away from Hatter and Alice, all the while spinning out his bizarre, but completely plausible story. "So I stole the ring, and escaped to your world. The theft was supposed to have triggered a coup, but…well, you saw what happened."

_No, I did not…oh, wait…oh, _I_ happened. I tried to play hero and nearly fucked everything up. Oops._

Alice sighed. "Well, it's not my fault. I only did what came naturally. Serves me right for trying to save your sorry ass, I suppose," she mumbled bitterly.

Her biting remarks seemed to completely roll off of the prince. He marched right back up to her, his eyes gleaming with hope and desperation. "But if you give us back the ring. We can give it another try," he proclaimed.

The pieces all came together. No wonder Caterpillar had recruited the crown prince of Wonderland. He wanted to be sure that when the Queen of Hearts was deposed there was a legitimate and well-trained claimant waiting to replace her, one who had helped get rid of her in the first place. It was a logical and ingenious move. It would all but ensure a smooth transition of power…well, once all the fighting was over with.

"You want to overthrow your mother," Alice realized.

Hatter made a sound which told her he did not quite believe that, but otherwise he remained silent.

"I've seen what she's done close-up. I know what she's capable of. And I know, perhaps better than anyone, that if I don't stop her, she'll destroy Wonderland," Jack explained. He sounded so determined, so noble, that, for just the briefest of instances, Alice forgot about his treachery towards her. She had been an unwitting pawn in this power struggle, but he had done it for the greater good. She, of all people, should understand making concessions and sacrifices all for the greater good.

But the budding of those more positive feelings toward Jack were destroyed after he spoke his next piece. "So who are you going to trust to get you and your father back home? A Resistance insider and future king who has already scheduled your return trip through the Looking Glass, who cares for you more than anyone else in the world…" Alice rolled her eyes at the last remark, but her heart grew cold at what he uttered while throwing a disdainful glance towards Hatter. "Or this man?"

"Excuse me?" Alice replied in an icy tone of voice. She thrust her index finger at Jack, poking the tall prince in the chest and causing him to stumble back a few steps as she advanced on him in her ire. "Firstly, I don't really give a rat's ass that you're about to be king, so, if you thought that little detail would make me swoon, you need to re-check your facts. I'm American. We fought a war to get royalty off our backs." She backed him up to the gate in front of the barn where she had slept next to Hatter the night before. A part of her wanted to just throw that detail in Jack's face for the sheer fun of it, but she held her tongue on that note.

"Secondly, this _man_ has saved my life more than once here in Wonderland. He took a bullet for me and then saved me from the Truth Room while you just let your mother's pet rabbit waltz me off there. Thanks for that, Jack. I had a grand old time with the Tweedle Twins," she spat fiercely. "Oh, and this _man_ has a name. His name is Hatter. And you'd do well to stop treating him he's like a bit of scum underneath your shoe. I don't care if you are a prince, you _will_ show some respect." She lowered her hand and settled it upon her hip, her hard gaze boring into him.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but no words issued forth. He swallowed and then dipped his head to show that he understood even if he did not quite agree with her. "I'm sorry," he mumbled petulantly.

"Don't apologize to me…well, you can apologize to me, but you also need to apologize to Hatter, and, while you're at it, tell Charlie you're sorry for waking him up so rudely," she ordered, turning around and gliding back to stand next to Hatter who was grinning brightly at her.

"Very nice," he whispered to her, snaking his hand over her shoulders. "You can be quite scary, you know?"

Jack recovered and walked back towards them. "Alice, we really don't have time," he cajoled her. "If you want to see your father, we have to leave now. Where is the ring?" A muscle twitched in his jaw. No doubt he was vexed over seeing Hatter's arm slung so possessively over Alice's shoulders.

Hatter tensed beside her. "Alice, you're not going with him, are you?"

"Excuse us for a moment," Alice said to Jack, pulling Hatter some distance away to speak with him privately.

"Hatter, please understand…I have to see my father." She laid her hand over his upper arm and squeezed it.

The man shook his head, his eyes filled with doubt and agony. "Alice, I don't like this at all. Something smells rotten about the whole thing," he replied.

"But you were told they were sending an agent, and, well, no one else has shown up," Alice pointed out.

Hatter huffed. "Maybe he intercepted the real agent and killed him," he proposed with a dirty glance in Jack's direction.

While she conceded such a thing was possible, somehow Alice did not believe that was what had happened. Occam's Razor applied in this matter and the simplest explanation was that Jack truly was an agent of the Resistance. If he could bring her to her father, she would go with him, but she would definitely remain on her guard the entire time.

"Just trust me," Alice implored him.

Hatter's hand reached up to stroke her hair. He had been doing that a lot, she noticed, not that she minded. "I do trust you, love. It's _him_ I don't trust." His eyes were darkened by worry. She knew he was probably thinking of the morbid legends surrounding those unlucky few who had captured the interest of the Cheshire. She, herself, had not given it much thought. If she did dwell on it too much, she probably would kill off her already very tenuous confidence.

"Well," Alice said. "If it makes you feel better, come with us." Having Hatter by her side would make her feel a lot safer. That was quite odd, considering she was more than capable of handling herself.

Hatter nodded, his Adam's Apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed. "All right," he conceded finally. "But no getting angry at me if I end up breaking his jaw."

"Yeah, well, we'll see who gets to that point first," Alice quipped.

She turned back to where Jack awaited her, impatiently pacing a two-foot radius on the ground. He looked up and halted at her approach.

"All right, we'll come with you," she announced.

Jack briefly glanced at Hatter, who was slowly walking up to stand by Alice. The prince shook his head. "No, I'm afraid he can't come."

"Well, I say he is coming," Alice shot back resolutely.

"Caterpillar was very clear. If you want the Resistance's help it must be on their terms. You must come alone," Jack stated in an implacable manner.

The hiss of Hatter's breath beside her told her this merely justified his convictions of all of this being one elaborate trap. Divide and conquer. It was one of the oldest rules of warfare in the books.

"It's for your own safety. And your father's," Jack then added softly. He sounded almost sympathetic, but not quite.

Before Hatter could raise his inevitable protests, Alice clamped down on his arm and turned to him. "I'll be fine," she assured him. Her eyes flitted back towards Charlie, who stood merely observing the exchange silently. "Just hang with Charlie and wait for me to come back."

"You're coming back _here_?" Jack sneered in disbelief. "I thought you wanted to get home."

"I've waited this long to get home," Alice snapped at him. With her tender gaze on Hatter, she murmured, "I can wait a bit longer." _Besides, I still have a war to help win here. You aren't going to be able to bring your mother down on your own, Jackie-boy._

Hatter's eyes glistened with worry and fear as he regarded her. The look he gave her almost made her sag into his arms. It was like he feared he would never see her again. She could not succumb to that fear. She needed his strength and blessing to carry on.

"Go," he murmured reluctantly. "Be careful…and remember that bloody rule of yours, or, so help me…" His voice trailed off and he swallowed back his emotions. No doubt he did not want them on display in front of Jack.

Well, to hell with Jack and his sensibilities, Alice decided. She pulled Hatter into a tight embrace and whispered, "Thank you." Tears sprang to her eyes when they pulled apart, but she held herself together long enough to keep them from falling. She wanted to kiss him, but she feared that if she did that she would never summon the will to walk away from him. So she slowly backed away and then turned to her ex-boyfriend, who was now glaring quite pointedly at the teashop owner.

"Okay, let's go," Alice announced.

The prince tore his angry gaze from Hatter. "We need the ring first."

"Oh, right," Alice mumbled. She marched over to the marble throne where the skeletal Red King sat and reached up to pluck the ring right off the bony finger she had left it on.

"Huh, right under my very nose," Charlie remarked admiringly.

She walked over to the old knight and presented his sword to him. The man took it graciously with a warm smile. "Thank you, Charlie," she told him. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Lady Alice. Good luck to you," he replied. His pale blue eyes swiveled over to where she assumed Hatter to be standing, but the knight did not make any comment.

Jack held his hand out expectantly as she walked back towards him, but Alice had no intention of handing the ring over to him. She still did not quite trust him enough.

"I'll be keeping this with me for now," she asserted, dropping it into the pocket of the velvet coat.

His face fell, but then he nodded. "Fair enough, I suppose."

Alice glanced at Hatter, who was clearly struggling with himself. When he caught her eyes, he settled just slightly. Though no words passed between them, there was a world of meaning in the gaze between them. She felt her heart skip a few beats at the intensity in his eyes, the emotions she read in his face. It was far too soon for anything like what she saw there, reflecting her own tide of feelings. But there it was, plain as day. He inclined his head toward her and she returned it.

When she followed Jack out of the encampment, she was grateful the prince did not turn around to glance back at her. For then he would have seen that though her head was held high and her face was frozen in detachment, a lone tear was trailing a wet path down her fair cheek.

* * *

Alice resigned herself to the fact that horsemanship was never to be among her collection of skills. She shifted uncomfortably in the saddle and jerked the reins as the creature started to wander off the path. Shooting an envious glare at the effortless way Jack handled his horse, she huffed. He had offered to let her ride with him and merely trail the second horse along behind them unencumbered, but she had flatly refused. And even if she might end up tumbling off the beast should they be forced into a gallop, she resolved not to regret her decision.

Still, it was unfair that he made it look so easy.

_Why is it they have horses, cell phones and casino games, but not condoms?_ she idly wondered to herself, thinking back on that relatively chaste previous night.

Her chest tightened when she recalled the look on Hatter's face when she had left and pressure built up in her sinuses once more, warning of impending tears unless she remedied the situation. She tilted her gaze up to the sky and tried not to think down the pessimistic path of doom her…companion…seemed to be stuck on. So what if just about everyone contracted by the Cheshire to accomplish some deed had died? The Alice of Legend had survived. She liked to think she would be harder to kill than a young girl. But then that little chit may have just gotten lucky. Alice's luck was sketchy at best, if not downright horrible.

Thankfully, Jack did not seem interested in striking up a conversation. He seemed content to allow the girl to quietly follow behind him while stewing in her own murky thoughts. She found her mind wandering to that ravishing beauty who had hung upon Jack's arm at the casino. Try as she might, Alice did not have it in her to hate the woman. After all, the noblewoman had been deceived by the prince just as surely the young Slayer had.

As she reflected on Jack's two-timing treachery, the girl was surprised to find it did not sting her nearly as much as she initially thought it would. Alice searched for that spike of jealousy which should be ramming its ugly head at seeing her ex-boyfriend wrapped up in the arms of that golden goddess. It was practically non-existent though. She was quite miffed at the deception, furious, actually. Part of that fury was aimed at herself for having so completely fallen for it. She felt like a fool, but not really a jilted fool.

_Hmm…interesting. _The girl knew she was normally quite quick in getting over a man, but, honestly, this was unprecedented. Wonderland must be having the strangest effect on her.

They paused in their journey at a shallow streambed where cool water ran over a plethora of smooth stones of varying size. She gratefully slid out of the saddle and stretched out her aching muscles. The horses dipped their snouts into the running water and slurped noisily.

"So who is this Hatter, really?" Jack asked, taking care to keep his tone level though the way his eyes gleamed with jealousy belied his tranquility.

"He's…" Alice did not quite know how to describe who Hatter was. She feared telling Jack he was the proprietor of the teashop in his parents' royal employ when he so clearly had ties to the Resistance as well. Although, she supposed since they had ransacked the shop, the cat was out of the bag on that one. "He runs the Tea House, or, rather, he used to. Then I dropped in and he helped me, which ended up costing him everything."

"Oh, I thought he looked vaguely familiar," Jack mused, scratching his smooth chin. The girl realized she had never once seen the man with so much as a single golden stubble of hair on his face.

A renegade sensory memory of the way Hatter's own rough stubble had rubbed and tickled her neck and face flitted through her head. She shooed it away.

"If and when you overthrow your mother, you need to remember that it wouldn't have been possible without Hatter's efforts. So you see to it that he is well compensated, got it?" she demanded.

"I will, Alice. I promise," Jack replied in a sincere voice.

The girl let out a deep breath. "While we're on the subject, I suppose, just who is this duchess? Does she have a name or do you all just call her by her title?" she inquired.

"Her name is Ilaena," Jack told her quietly. "And she is my mother's creature. It was an arrangement made when we were both children. I have no feelings for her, nor she for me." He crouched down to splash some water on the back of his neck. The mid-morning sun had started to grow rather warm.

Alice had figured it was probably an arranged marriage, but that did not necessarily mean there were no affectionate feelings there. She searched her memory of the duchess, but it was too vague and quick to lock down any discernible feelings of fondness. The only thing she recalled was the secret steel shining out of those green-hazel eyes.

"Well, I can't tell you if she has feelings for you or not, but I can definitely tell you she is no one's creature," Alice remarked diffidently.

Jack apparently brushed aside that comment. "My heart belongs to you, Alice, completely. You believe that, don't you?" He turned his golden brown gaze up to her, his expression beseeching. Once, it would have made her melt. Now, she felt nothing.

Shaking her head, Alice smiled wanly. "I believe you that think it does, but I don't believe it. More to the point…" Her bitter wishes to strike out at the prince in all her pain and fury had subsided about an hour ago, so she plundered on in a gentle voice. "I was in a relationship with a man named Jack Chase. Jack Chase doesn't exist. I don't know you, Jack Heart. You're a complete stranger to me."

The prince inclined his head and swallowed. "Well, perhaps we could make a fresh start," he ventured.

The girl let out a harsh bark of laughter. "I don't think so. I'm not princess material. You see, there are things about me that I hadn't yet told you, but if you had stuck around long enough, you would have learned them." Now that the relationship was effectively ended, she could pretend like she had firmly believed it would have lasted long enough for him to learn about her being a Slayer.

The prince's fine brow creased. "What are you talking about?"

She was not interested in delving into another epic tale of her job, so she just waved her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter. Aren't we on a time crunch here?"

Jack stared at her for a few moments before snapping out it and rising to his full height. "Um, yes, I suppose we should be off." He snatched up the reins of their mounts and guided the horses out of the water onto the dry bank.

Alice walked up to the mare she had been riding to mount up, but a prickling of intuition bade her pause and turn around. She searched the surrounding area for any sign of the eyes she felt watching her, but there was nothing but wind shaking the trees and a few twittering birds loping in the air. Still, there was a feeling of being watched, but her instincts did feel threatened at all. In fact, it was almost like they were relieved by it. Shaking it off, she mounted the horse and clumsily kicked it into a canter to follow behind Jack.

The sun had drifted over into mid-afternoon once they reached the outskirts of the smoggy city. They dismounted and left the horses un-tethered outside the threshold of the decrepit urban area. Alice craned her neck up to glimpse just how high the levels of the city stretched. It was hundreds of feet, probably even eclipsing a thousand. She gulped unsteadily. A fall from such a height, even for a Slayer, would lead to a bloody end.

Here and there, narrow grass-covered bridges and walkways crisscrossed the air, some of them spanning the entire distance between two separate building levels while others had been obliterated halfway or a third of the way across. As she followed Jack up a network of stairs and ramps, she noticed there were also rickety old rope and wooden bridges with planks of wood missing at certain points. There were even full-fledged trees growing out the sides of some buildings, their thick trunks curving out and arching upwards towards the sky. The girl gawked at them. This was one bizarre dystopia.

Jack was not mindful of her fear of heights. Every time she slowed down to try to calm her growing sense of panic, clutching at the wall and drawing as far back from a narrow ledge as she could, he would scold her and tell her to hurry. She understood they were pressed for time, but she could not force herself to go any faster with these nausea-inducing heights around her. Oh, how she wished Hatter was here with his gentle, firm voice and his lovely warm hands, guiding her and coaxing her along in her time.

To be fair, she _did_ shrug off Jack's hand when he tried to take hold of hers.

Eventually they reached the very top level, and Jack led her alongside a house with cracked white siding towards a huge, immaculate building with white plaster siding and red brick trimmings. Awnings decked in blue and white stripes stretched out over some of the windows. When she looked up, she also saw an enormous clock adorned the very front of it, its golden gears exposed and turning. The scene took her breath away.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"The Hospital of Dreams," Jack replied.

_Of course it is. This is Wonderland. Everything must have a fanciful name. _

They traversed the grassy bridge leading to the Hospital of Dreams. Jack gave her some very firm warnings as they crossed. "Just stay close by me and keep your mark covered. If the inmates figure out what you are, I won't be able to help you."

"Inmates? This is a hospital. Aren't they supposed to be called patients?" Alice questioned, somewhat unfazed by his other warnings pertaining to her mark. She had no intention of parading the fact that she was an oyster around.

Jack did not answer her query. He pushed open the huge double doors and allowed her to enter first before creaking them shut. Alice gasped at the size of the lobby they entered. It was all one single chamber, but it was gigantic. Tiles of amber gold gleamed in the soft, intermittent lights and there was no decoration or furniture, save for one lone desk set in the center of the floor.

She and Jack approached the desk. A woman dressed in an old-fashioned blue nurse's uniform with swept up brown curls sat behind the desk, a glossy black phone receiver pressed up against her ear. Her jaw worked as she chewed on a piece of gum and she was using a pencil to poke at what appeared to be a cockroach in a plastic container. Alice grimaced at the scene in disgust. She hated cockroaches.

The receptionist eventually hung up the phone and peered up at Jack lackadaisically. "He's on the third floor," she informed him, still herding the insect around with the pencil.

"Thank you," Jack replied.

They took an elevator to the third floor instead of traversing more stairs. It opened onto a hallway of ivory and green tiles with little Romanesque frescoes painted into the borders between the two colors. Her boot heels clicked upon the brick red tiles of the floor as she followed Jack down a small set of stairs and around a corner.

She stopped when she heard the eerie, high-pitched screams and demented laughter. Both were filled with madness.

"What was that?" she demanded.

"The inmates," Jack supplied. "Try not to let it get to you. They can drive you mad."

_Again with calling them inmates…although I guess this place is more like a mental hospital._

"Caterpillar may seem a bit odd to you," Jack warned as they walked down the hallway. Alice snorted at that. This was Wonderland. Just about everything seemed odd to her. Why should a man named after a grub be any different? "But, believe me, we're among friends."

"If you say so," she muttered.

He led her down another set of stairs leading to an open, beaded archway. Beyond there was a large swimming pool, the bright blue standing starkly out against the warm reds and golds. The smell of chlorine filled her nostrils and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. She was more a beach lover for precisely this reason.

In the middle of the pool was, inexplicably, a rowboat. A man sat in the boat although how he fit amidst all the other junk crammed in there was beyond Alice. There were several piles of books, a lamp, a desk, a typewriter, and what appeared to be the wide blue-colored cylinder of a gramophone perched behind the man in the boat. She frowned when she also saw the man was holding a hookah.

_A hookah-smoking Caterpillar is the leader of the Resistance. No wonder they haven't really done anything productive._

"Hello," the man greeted, his voice was reedy with age, although possibly also from hallucinogenic drugs. "Do you have the ring?"

"Yes," Jack answered.

He held his hand out to Alice, so she gathered she was supposed to produce the piece of jewelry. But when she reached into her coat pocket Caterpillar stopped her. "No, no, no. Should the moment arise, I must be able to swear under oath that I have never laid eyes on it."

"Okay," Alice said slowly, dropping her hand from her pocket. _Whatever. _It was safe to say her confidence in this great and mysterious Resistance leader was plummeting.

"Ask the girl to come closer," Caterpillar requested.

"Alice—" Jack began, but she held her hand up to silence him.

"I'm standing right here and I don't have problems with my hearing. So you can talk to me directly," she told the old man in annoyance.

"Very well," the old man replied diffidently.

She and Jack walked around the pool until they were standing right next to the rowboat floating in the water. Closer inspection revealed Caterpillar to be a man well within his sixties with round glasses that gave the impression of bug-eyes. His hair was completely gray and spiraled out of the crown of his head in multiple directions. He was dressed as if the temperature of this room were near to freezing with a thick green coat and a scarf striped in multiple colors.

"You're not as tall as I imagined," Caterpillar remarked in a thoughtful voice, studying her with his weird bug eyes.

She bristled at the jab towards her unimpressive height. "Well, you're a lot higher than I imagined," she retorted hotly.

"When did you last see your father?" Caterpillar asked, apparently ignoring her jibe.

The girl sighed. "When I was ten," she said tightly.

"Ten," Caterpillar mused. "A long time ago."

_What? First he calls me short and now he's trying to insinuate that I'm old? I really am not liking this fellow._

"Where is he?" Alice asked.

Caterpillar took a long drag off the hookah, puffing a cloud of smoke out of his mouth. Alice huffed in disbelief. She turned to Jack with an outraged expression. "Are you kidding me? _This_ is Caterpillar?" She thumbed towards the man.

Jack shrugged helplessly. "In the flesh," he replied.

"Your father is a very difficult man to reach," Caterpillar finally said. "We've been tracking him for a long time, but never got close enough to pop the question. Never once. And do you know what it is we want to ask him?"

Alice frowned. This was not making any sense to her. Why would the Resistance be tracking her father, an insignificant oyster? "No," she said, shaking her head.

"You don't even want to hazard a little guess?" the Resistance leader wheedled.

"What are you talking about?" Alice demanded impatiently.

Caterpillar swept his arms out. "Horizons, my dear. I'm talking about bright new horizons." The man smiled cryptically at her. "And that's where you come in."

"Where I come in?" Alice repeated skeptically.

"Yes. When you first met Jack, did you think it was a happy accident? The fickle finger of fate?" Caterpillar asked.

"_You felt the finger of fate brushing over you…"_ Caterpillar practically echoed the Cheshire's ominous words. She felt a shudder of unease. Looking to Jack, she saw the man sheepishly staring at the floor.

"You mean..." She paused as the words tangled up in her throat. "He singled me out?"

Caterpillar rowed over to the edge and stepped out of the boat. He gave Alice a speculative one over. "There is far more to you than meets the eye, I think."

_Wish I could say the same about you,_ Alice thought to herself.

He laid a hand on Alice's shoulder and guided her back towards the entrance to the pool room. "Come with me, my dear," he said. "There are things which you must see and understand."

Caterpillar led Alice and Jack to what must have been one of the patient wards. They came upon a hall adorned with cells housing people in various states of...well, illness was not quite the word Alice would use to describe what was wrong with these people. In fact, she could not seem to come up with any adjectives which seemed suitable. All the cells were covered in a sheet of glass rather than metal bars. It enabled them a full view of these pitiful people in their equally pitiful predicaments.

"You see, the effect of your powerful emotions on our delicate senses can be devastating," Caterpillar explained. He stopped their progress at a cell where a woman was suspended in the air against a backdrop of a blue sky which gave the illusion of moving as if one were falling. Alice appraised the scene with a mixture of fascinated horror.

"Patient 243 couldn't get the precious high of Flying High out of her system. So, we're bringing her back down in a controlled environment," the Resistance leader elaborated.

They moved on, passing by another cell where an enormous naked man very nearly took up all the space in his cell. He sat with his hand pressed up against his temple, staring sullenly out ahead at the trio.

Caterpillar told this one's story, too. "Patient 671 drank too much Self Importance. So we're shrinking his considerable ego, little by little, back to its original size."

"Jesus, you mean he was bigger than that?" Alice blurted out in astonishment.

Caterpillar nodded gravely. "This is the first time in weeks that we've actually been able to house him in a normal-sized cell," he told her. "We're all vulnerable. Mix the wrong feelings together, the right kind of bad with the wrong kind of good, and you'll wind up with a total breakdown."

Though the man was a hookah-smoking airhead, she had to admit that was true even for people from her world.

"The oysters, your people, are contaminating our world," the old Resistance leader declared as they went through a set of doors, walking underneath a tunnel lined with green hedge bushes. They emerged onto an open brick-lined pathway, the afternoon sun shining brightly down on them.

Alice stiffened at the accusatory tone he used. "Well, cry me a river," she spat sarcastically. "It's not like any of them asked to be here."

Caterpillar, unflappable as always, it appeared, replied in an even tone. "Well they must be returned to their world, your world, before it's too late. Dead or alive, they must be gone from this world."

She scowled at his indifference over the fate of her people. "You know what? It sucks, what's happened to these patients, or inmates, or whatever you call them. But the fact of the matter is, they got that way through their own fucking stupidity. They chose to knock back those emotions! But did my people choose to be stolen from their lives and brought here to be sucked dry? No! And I know what happens to them after they've given all they can give. They're executed. So don't expect me to feel all that sorry for those people in there."

Caterpillar blinked his bug eyes, not showing any sign that her words had registered with him. "Be that as it may," the man droned on. "They must go. And your father is the only one who can release them."

Alice blinked, unsure if she had heard the man correctly. "Um, what?" she asked in bafflement.

"Our undercover operatives successfully smuggled him here earlier today. It's the most dangerous operation we've ever mounted," Caterpillar explained.

Alice gawked at him. Could she ever get a straight answer from these Wonderland folk? "Smuggled him? Where…what the hell are you talking about?"

Jack laid a hand on her arm in an effort to placate her. "Alice, wait, hear him out."

"I must warn you, he's not the same person you knew as a child," Caterpillar said in a surprisingly gentle tone.

Ice gripped her heart and her stomach tightened. "What do you mean?" Had he been tortured? Had his mind been broken beyond repair or his body mutilated in some way? She did not care, for this was her father. She had waited eleven years for this moment.

"He's…how shall I put this?…Stuck," the Resistance leader stated enigmatically. "We're hoping you can help clear away his cobwebs."

"What? I don't understand," Alice complained.

Jack pulled her around to face him. "Alice, I came to your world to find you because we needed your help."

"Only you can wake him, Alice," Caterpillar added.

So it all came together then. Whatever part of her had been hanging onto some kind of slim hope that her presence in this world was through some bizarre accident had been snuffed out like a candle flame. She had been chosen once more, singled out. Hatter had been right all along. Jack had been using her. The girl had been nothing more than a means to an end.

"So everything…us…our relationship…it was all about my father," Alice hissed, her fists clenching as an indescribable fury began to take hold of her.

Jack shook his head, his eyes bleak. "It wasn't all an act. I really do love you, but you must understand your father holds the keys to our future in Wonderland."

He had never told her he loved her before. Once she would have yearned to hear those words from his lips (although she would have wanted a few more months to go by), but now all she could see was more manipulation and lies. It practically clouded her vision.

"Fucking Christ, you have been lying to me this entire time," she accused, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned away from Jack, her ire forcing her breaths to come in quick and shallow.

"I'm sorry, Alice," Jack told her, his voice wracked with guilt.

"Would you have believed him if he had told you the truth?" Caterpillar interjected.

She glared at the intruding old man. Could he not see that this was a relatively private and emotional conversation? "You know, you'd be pretty fucking surprised over what I'd believe."

"You're right, I should have been more honest, Alice. But I can't turn back the clock." The words came out rushed, as if Jack were merely impatient to get them out of the way so he could move on to the important things. "But please," the prince implored her, desperation in his tone. "Will you help us?"

"Alice, our world depends on it," Caterpillar threw in dramatically.

Alice sighed, her breaths still coming in shaky and shallow. Tears of anger and betrayal were threatening to spill, but she beat them back. She brought her hand up to run through her hair and then drew them down to cover her trembling lips.

"I'll help, but I'm _not_ doing it for you," she asserted. She decided not to mention that she was bound by sacred duty to help. Let them think she was doing it out of the goodness of her heart.

Caterpillar turned, beckoning to the two to follow him. He led them to a door at the end of the path and opened it. They climbed up a set of stairs which led to a wide open terrace bordered by white slabs of concrete. The dull red brick seemed to end quite abruptly though, as if the terrace had never been completed. And yet she knew that the building was wider than this, so how was it possible that there appeared to be nothing there? Her confoundment was laid to rest when Caterpillar walked up to a big red button and pressed it. A high-pitched sound pierced the air and then the rest of the terrace seemed to just magically unfurl with a rumbling sound.

Three figures stood upon the newly appeared half of the terrace, the afternoon sunlight glinting off of their shiny yellow plastic lab coats. All of them were male, two relatively young, and one looking to be around fiftyish or so. The older one was strung between the two younger ones with their hands clamped onto his arms. At the appearance of Alice, Jack, and Caterpillar, they released the older man from their holds.

At first, all Alice saw was a man with curly brown hair and a beard, and roving hazel eyes which regarded her and everyone else with a sense of anger and contempt. Then her brain began to work and she gasped.

That man was her father.

* * *

Well, this was another one I ended up having to shave off some and leave it for the next chapter. I'm on a roll, it seems, especially since there's a particular part I just can't wait to write…though I think some of my readers will want to kill me for it hahaha…

Oh, and I hope ya'll don't mind me giving the duchess a name. I was kind of annoyed she was just "duchess", so I gave her a name and some more substance, albeit a little indirectly.

Feedback is much appreciated, so please tell me what you thought! You'd be surprised how reviews can spur along updates...


	20. All in the Family

I totally played with this rooftop scene a lot, as you will see…

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**Chapter XIX: **All in the Family

"Dad?" Alice whispered. Her heart was practically in her throat as she blindly ran towards her father. While the years had added wrinkles to his face and grays to his hair that had not been there when she had been a child, it was still, unmistakably, Robert Hamilton.

"Who's this?" the man, Robert Hamilton, sneered.

She came to an abrupt halt. Her stomach lurched like an anchor had been dropped inside it. Looking into those beloved hazel eyes she remembered so well, the girl was devastated to find not a single hint of love or recognition. "It's me, Daddy," she insisted, her voice sounding small and childlike to her ears.

The man's incredulous, harsh bark of laughter cut into her like a dagger. His scathing gaze traveled from Alice to Jack, who had just run up to stop a few feet behind her. "Another one of your tricks, Jack Heart?" he said with a raised eyebrow.

_He thinks this is a trick? Oh god, he doesn't know who I am! How can he not know who I am? _Anguish ripped into her, but she fought to keep her composure. She thought she had prepared herself for anything when it came time to finally reunite with her father. But nothing could have prepared her for this.

"Don't you know your own daughter?" Caterpillar said while motioning towards Alice.

"Daughter?" Robert Hamilton repeated, sounding as if he thought the notion were downright outlandish. He laughed as if it were all some grand joke.

"You left, Dad. When I was a kid…you left us," Alice tried, her fists clenching so tightly her fingernails were likely drawing blood.

"The White Rabbit abducted you many years ago, and the doctors adjusted you to work in the laboratory," Caterpillar told him.

Alice frowned at that information. She should have known her father must have worked in the laboratory just by the way he was dressed. But her heart and mind had sincere trouble swallowing that information because of the insinuations it made about his role in everything that was wrong with Wonderland. She did not want to believe it; could not believe it. But her father had been a brilliant professor of biochemistry and molecular biology at Ohio State University, and his research in those fields was considered to have been ground-breaking. If the Queen of Hearts wanted someone who could invent a way to extract a person's emotions and convert it into a usable, edible substance, Robert Hamilton was the man for the job.

_Oh god…no…that can't be right…he would never…_

She shook off the thoughts. _One thing at a time, Alice. _Bravely walking up to the man who was her father, she said, "We've missed you so much. Mom tries not to show it, but I know she does. She didn't even date or anything." Just thinking of her mother and what this could possibly mean for the woman who had been bereft of her soul-mate for over a decade made Alice's heart twist. She was just glad her mother was not here, having to suffer this desolate lack of recognition.

"Mom?" her father repeated, his brow knitted into a frown.

"Carol, your wife," Alice reminded him entreatingly. She saw something flash in her father's eyes for a second, but it blinked out so quickly she was not even sure it had been there.

"You really think this charade is going to turn me against the queen?" her father asked scornfully.

Shaking her head, Alice continued with her desperate pleading. "Don't you remember anything?"

The man shifted, his eyes narrowing. "I remember my work at the institute, bioreductive enzymes, chemically-induced synesthesia, shadow theory…" he spouted off until Alice cut him off.

"What about your family?" He stared at her blankly, so she tried another detail in an attempt to jog his memory. "Our little yellow house?"

The man scoffed. "I live…I lived alone in an apartment," he stated, but his words lacked substance like he was no longer so certain of them. That flash of wavering conviction returned and, with it, Alice felt her hopes leap up.

"Ray," Alice said encouragingly. "You remember him. Your friend with the boat. You two would go out on those insanely long fishing trips, but you sucked at it and never caught anything."

"What is the point of all this?" her father asked, spreading his arms out.

Alice was not going to give up yet. The young Slayer could see she was slowly starting to plant seeds of doubt, and she was going to do everything within her power to make that doubt grow into a full-fledged forest. "Grapefruit and wheat germ. You would eat that disgusting stuff for breakfast. And on Sundays, sometimes we would go to that brunch place next to campus, and you would throw chickpeas at the ducks."

Her father was stock-still as he stared at her. She could see he was at war with his own mind, his own memory. She searched for more private details of their lives. "When I was a kid, you used to read to me before bedtime. And you tried to get me to go to this science camp, but I was always more interested in dancing and literature…you said it was because I took after Mom. But you still encouraged me." Her throat was growing tight with emotion and the pressure had returned to her sinuses.

"Your mother…" her father began slowly, his voice hesitant, "will be very upset when she hears about this, Jack." For a moment, Alice believed she had finally broken through whatever fog of amnesia was imprisoning her father. But her hopes died when he looked up at Jack while he finished the statement.

Her hold over her composure broke. "You don't even know who I am," she whimpered, her bottom lip quivering. A sob broke through and she turned her face away.

She did not see that her father's face also turned, his eyes closing in pain. "Don't cry, Jellybean."

_Jellybean? _Her head snapped back up, hope renewed.

"Jellybean? Is that your special name for Alice?" Caterpillar inquired levelly.

The girl nodded emphatically. "That's what you used to call me. And when our cat Dinah died, you held me in your arms for a whole hour, remember? You just rocked me while I cried."

Her hand slipped down into her dress pocket and pulled out the watch Jack had discreetly given her at the casino yesterday. She ran her thumbs over the smooth metal, smiling sadly. "Remember this?" she asked her father.

"What is it?" he returned with a note of curiosity.

She slowly approached him, holding the watch out before her. "It's your watch. You always wore it," she told him.

The man's hand stretched out almost unconsciously towards the object. "I've never worn a watch," he said in a dazed, almost frightened manner. "We don't need them here."

"Mom got it for you for your birthday, but you forgot to take it off when we went to the beach one summer. So it's kind of broken, but you didn't seem to mind." She glanced up at her father's face, a tentative smile on her own. Her hands shaking slightly, the girl slid the watch onto her father's wrist, back to its rightful place.

Her father's breath hitched and he appraised her with new eyes. She could see the recognition trying to break free. He was almost there.

But then her senses rippled in warning and she whipped her head towards the stairway they had come in. The warning, however, was too little and too late. She barely had time to curse their rotten lock when the door burst open and Suits came pounding up the stairs. A gunshot cracked the air, prompting everyone to duck down. Unexpectedly, her father grabbed her and pulled her down underneath his own body, effectively acting as her shield.

_Well, better now than never that he remembers, I guess._

"Hold it right there! Don't move!" one of the Suits shouted.

That familiar feeling of dread squirmed into her belly when the ceramic ears of Mad March peaked over the top of the stairs. He walked over to them, his triumphant sense of mad glee filling the air around her. She shivered as she slowly rose to her feet, her father pulling back from her.

"There he is!" someone shouted. She had no idea who they were referring to. It could have been Jack, but then it also could have been her father, or even Caterpillar, for that matter.

"I'm a little disappointed. I expected a bit more of a struggle." The tinny voice of Mad March was about as musical as nails scraping down a chalkboard. She winced as his malevolence washed over her.

The creature walked over to her. She felt her father shift minutely, as if torn between protecting her and staying out of the way.

Alice knew what he was going to ask before the words even hit the air. "Where's Hatter?"

If she had been feeling protective the last time he had posed the question, it had nothing on how she felt now. All her defenses were raised, and all thoughts as to her well-being, including that pesky first rule of slaying, flew out the window. "Fuck you," she spat. "What makes you think I'll ever tell you that?"

"Oooh, baby's got teeth," Mad March cackled. His bunny head clicked as he directed his eyeless gaze to Jack. "We picked up your trail outside the city. Excuse me, but you weren't that difficult to track."

"Are you all right?" This question was posed by the man Alice knew only as the bowler hat man. He was wearing a black cape this time, but his silver, club-shaped medallion winked in the afternoon sunlight. He was inquiring of her father, who must have been a more valuable asset to the Hearts than she realized.

"They kidnapped me," her father replied. "Tried to turn me against the queen with some nonsense about being this girl's father."

Alice felt her hopes shatter. They had been so close to waking him up, but it had all been for naught. The violent interruption of the Suits had ruined it.

The bowler hat man sauntered up to Jack. With the hat on, he was about the same height as the tall prince. "You're gonna break your mother's heart," the other man remarked, shaking his head.

Then he walked off towards where Caterpillar stood, still and seemingly calm. "Well, well, well. The mysterious Caterpillar. Apprehended at last," the man announced triumphantly. He chuckled darkly. "You realize this brings an end to the Resistance, finally and forever."

Strangely enough, the Resistance leader was grinning, as if he was sitting atop some huge secret only he was privy to. He reached inside his green coat and pulled out a red mushroom, popping it into his mouth amidst baffled stares and shaking heads. Everyone yelled and jumped back a few steps, however, when he disappeared in a literal explosion of smoke.

_Well, that's nice. Leave the rest of us to fend for ourselves, _Alice thought in exasperation. She glanced at Mad March and sized him up.

Bowler hat man recovered from his shock and then walked over to Jack. He held out his hand. "Hand over the ring," he demanded.

Jack and Alice both stiffened. The ring was not in the possession of the prince, for Alice had not quite trusted him enough to let him hold onto it. It still resided in the pocket of her velvet coat, and now it was currently burning a hole in it, figuratively speaking.

"We don't have it," he ended up lying. "It's still hidden away." His eyes flitted to hers for the briefest of moments, but she dared not acknowledge him.

The bowler hat man made a hissing sound of displeasure mixed with fear. Alice supposed the price for failure was a fatal one. He started questioning Jack further, but she was not paying attention to that. Her brain was busy working on possible escape routes and weak points to exploit. There seemed to be twenty Suits on top of Mad March and the bowler hat man. Of course that did not include any that could possibly be standing sentry in the Hospital of Dreams. She also had to account for the possibility of guards for the front and back exits, assuming there was a back exit. The Suits themselves could be dispatched easily enough. It was Mad March who was the problem, as well as the fact that she was not, as Hatter had pointed out to her once, bullet-proof.

The ring could not fall back into the queen's hands. Alice had the ring, so, therefore, the logical plan of action would be for her to fight her way out of this mess. Unfortunately, that would entail abandoning Jack. Though the man had betrayed her, his intentions had been noble, and she could not just leave him here to his mother's lack of mercy. Alice Hamilton left no one behind if she could help it.

_Fuck, what do I do? Why can't Jack just have a magic mushroom, too?_

Mad March brought her back to reality when he ambled up to her with his knife drawn. Her muscles tensed defensively, the Slayer within howling for her to fight.

"I think we might persuade princey-boy here to spill the beans," the assassin sneered.

"No!" Jack cried out in fear. "Don't touch her!"

She forced her breathing to slow down, pushing down the rapid beat of her heart as Mad March circled her with the tip of his knife blade running against her shoulders. Her blue eyes crossed paths with Jack's wide gold-brown ones. There was horror in his gaze.

"Mad March, the queen wants the oyster back alive," the bowler hat man reminded him in the same tone a parent used when scolding a disobedient child.

Mad March snickered. "She didn't say in what condition though," he retorted maliciously.

"Please, leave her alone!" Jack begged.

"Then tell us where the ring is," Mad March said. The knife tip moved up to slide across her cheek. "Or we'll see how pretty that face is once I get done with her."

Alice could not shake her head, could not move, could not say a word…But she locked her gaze onto Jack and ardently tried to send him a message with her eyes. He could not give up the ring, no matter what. For goodness sake the man had betrayed her and lied to her all for the sake of his people and for this damned ring. Now he was going to renege on his noble principles just because Mad March had threatened to carve her face up like a pumpkin on Halloween?

Well, she supposed it showed that he really did care for her. In a way, it did allay part of the anger and resentment she held towards him.

The pressure of the knife increased. She almost heard the sound of her flesh of her right cheek parting underneath the sharp blade, like a whisper of paper being ripped. The next thing that happened was then completely out of her control. The Slayer within had been caged and suppressed for far too long. It was not going to stand for such treatment any longer.

Reflexively, her hand shot out to wrap around Mad March's wrist. It took him off guard enough for her to twist his arm, pulling the weapon away from her face while her other hand lashed out in a flat-palmed strike right into the assassin's sternum. The force sent the man with the rabbit head stumbling back a few feet when on most anyone else he or she would have been sent sailing across the terrace by a good fifteen feet or more.

She probably should have just left it at that, but, unfortunately, the Slayer would not be appeased by simply diverting the threat of facial mutilation. It had been unleashed and it was royally incensed. She advanced upon Mad March, completely ignoring the screaming protests of Jack, who was being held back by two burly Suits.

Mad March snickered at her and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. The knife had fallen from his grasp when she had twisted his arm and knocked him backwards, but that did not mean he was any less dangerous. Like her, he was a weapon unto himself.

She spun and snapped her leg up into a high kick aimed right for the little black band of metal with the voice box, intending to kick that ceramic rabbit head right off its pathetic neck. Mad March caught her boot in his freakishly strong hands and with a flip of his wrist he sent the girl spinning in the air and crashing into the pavement face first.

Her hands splayed out instinctively to protect her face from hitting the ground. She had been about to push herself up when Mad March's shoe drove into her back. The abrasive surface of the brick tore skin off her palms as her entire body was slammed into the ground. She felt ribs in her back crack ominously and pain lanced through her, hot and sharp. She stifled her cries of pain, however, but her breath came out in a muffled, guttural gasp.

"Stop!" Jack screamed.

Mad March's hands slipped under her shoulders and he roughly rolled her over onto her back. The movement did not agree with her newly cracked back ribs, but she still did not vocalize her pain. He crouched down and then wrapped the cold fingers of one hand around her slender neck. She was reminded of how she held Dodo down with her hand straining to wrap around the front of his beefy neck. Mad March's hands were large enough so they almost nearly encircled her neck. The assassin did not choke her, but his grip was firm.

"Tell me where the ring is, then, _Your Highness_," he demanded, putting a perverted inflection on the royal style.

"Don't tell him!" Alice shouted hoarsely.

Her head was slammed down into the pavement. Had she not been a Slayer, the impact would have sent her careening into blissful unconsciousness. Unfortunately, since she was a Slayer, she was forced to experience the full brunt of the explosion of pain in the back of her skull. Her vision slid out of focus into spotty darkness for a few seconds and this time she could not prevent the cry of agony from escaping her lips.

"Alice!" came Jack's horrified shriek.

"Mad March, I command you to stop!" shouted another voice. Alice's brain felt like scrambled eggs so, for a few seconds, she could not place it. But her glazed eyes widened as shock overtook her. That had been her father's voice.

"I command you to step away from the girl and leave her be!" her father ordered.

She blinked almost uncomprehendingly as the assassin unfurled his fingers from around her neck, rose to his feet, and then stepped away. Lifting her head up proved to be immensely painful and she slumped back down with a groan. She vaguely heard footsteps on the fringe of her senses and then someone was gently propping her up into a sitting position. Everything in her vision swam and tilted as she was unsteadily coaxed to her feet. The girl felt like she was standing on the deck of a ship amidst a ferocious hurricane. Nausea roiled in her belly and she feared she might vomit if the spinning did not cease.

"It's okay," the voice of her helper assured her. She turned at the sound and blinked in surprise when her father's face, wavy though it was, appeared.

_Does he remember me now? Did seeing me nearly get brained to death by Mad March jog his memory? He did try to shield me earlier...How did he get Mad March to obey him, anyhow? I want to learn that trick…god, my head is killing me!_

"The queen may want to speak to the girl, and I don't think she'll be pleased if the girl's brain is too damaged to provide intelligible responses to her questions," her father reprimanded Mad March sternly.

Tears stung her eyes and her heart sank yet again. Her father did not intervene out of concern for her well-being after all. He had only done it because he feared the wrath of the queen. But the tender way in which he had helped her to her feet and the way he was gently supporting her on her somewhat unsteady legs belied that notion. Perhaps he did not consciously remember her, but his subconscious knew that she was important, or had been at one point. That was a start, she guessed, but she would rather avoid any more physical pain just to wake her father up.

"You will not touch her on the way to the casino," her father said to Mad March.

The assassin's hands shook with rage, but he gave a reluctant nod of his rabbit head. Alice gawked. How could her father have control over Mad March? She wondered if the queen wielded this control as well.

"Carpenter, we still need to procure the ring. Her Majesty ordered it," bowler hat man argued.

_Carpenter? Is that his name here? _

"I'll tell you where it is, but you must let Alice go free," Jack said.

Alice would have shaken her head if such a thing would not have proved to be the act which sent the contents of her belly spewing out.

"Well, she can't go free right now, she needs medical attention," her father—_Carpenter_—replied.

"We're standing right on top of a hospital," Jack reminded them heatedly.

"No, the oyster must come with us. She can receive medical attention at the casino," bowler hat man declared.

Alice wondered why they did not just search them, but then decided she could not worry about that. If they wanted to search her, she reckoned she was in no condition at the moment to stop them. A jackhammer was at work against the back of her skull and she could feel blood sliding down the back of her neck. Dizziness still plagued her sense of equilibrium, making her feel she was on a perpetual tilt-a-whirl. On top of that, her hands stung from the scraps of skin which had been torn off and her back ribs ached fiercely with every breath she drew.

_Didn't even take the fucker five minutes to incapacitate me…how the hell am I supposed to accomplish this task if I can't take that assassin down?…unless…I get Daddy to wake up and order him to go off himself or something._

At the moment, however, Alice was more interested in finding a place to lie down. At least until the rampant spinning, nausea, and jackhammer pain relented a little bit. Her father held onto her, his touch aloof and tender all at once. He did not glance down at her or speak to her as they walked down the stairs to the pathway outside the terrace, nor when they went down through the Hospital of Dreams. Truth be told, the lack of conversation was just dandy with her. It was difficult enough to focus on putting one foot in front of the other and beat back the rising urge to vomit. Speaking would have just exacerbated matters.

When they reached the huge amber-tiled lobby, Alice gasped in horror when she saw that nameless receptionist lying on the floor beside her desk. There was a small crimson hole in the middle of her forehead. Her glassy eyes, the color of fine flint, stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.

Though Mad March carried no gun on him that she could discern, somehow, she knew that this murder was on his hands. She glared at the assassin. As if he had known her accusing eyes were on him, his rabbit head turned to face her. She had no doubt that if he could have grinned evilly, he would be doing just that.

As they marched her, Jack, and those two unfortunate Resistance operatives who smuggled her father out of the lab towards the double doors at the front of the lobby, Alice found there was at least one thing from this entire catastrophe that she could take solace in. She was immensely grateful for the simple fact that Hatter was not here. Even if she herself would not make it, at least he would.

Through the pain, nausea, dizziness, and fear, she smiled at that singular comfort.

* * *

Essentially, Carpenter "made" Mad March, so it seems logical he would have verbal control over him. A man as smart as him would probably put fail-safes in, and, yes, the queen has verbal control as well.

Reviews would be just awesome, and would speed up the posting of next chapter...hehehe...


	21. Dream the Nightmare

Be warned, we are about to totally deviate from the script...

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**Chapter XX: **Dream the Nightmare

Charlie was standing next to him, or behind him, Hatter was not very certain, but he knew the knight was invading his personal space regardless. They were watching Alice ride away on a caramel brown mare right behind that ponce of a prince. Charlie was muttering anxiously, walking from one side of the teashop owner to the other. The old knight obviously was not very thrilled with this turn of events, no matter the front he put on for Alice.

Well, Hatter could not blame him. He was not exactly jumping for joy to see Alice ride away with her former lover. At the moment, he could not say which part of this situation bothered him more. That she was riding away into possible danger of which he could not protect her from or that she was riding away with her ex-boyfriend. He knew the former of the two issues should be his primary concern, but the latter was pulling up a close second and it tore him apart with guilt. This jealousy emotion was something he had known about only on a purely academic level. Until he knew Alice, he had never felt this tight, slimy, hot sensation. It made his blood positively boil.

Hatter knew it was irrational. He knew Alice did not choose the prince over him. This was not about him at all. This was about her, her father, and a whole pile of issues bigger than a mere teashop owner moonlighting as an informer for the Resistance. But apparently his new, raging emotions did not care about the objective facts.

He swallowed the lump in his throat when Alice had finally traveled too far ahead for him to make out. _She's coming back. She said she's coming back. _He repeated that phrase in his head over and over in an effort to soothe the agitation overtaking his body. He walked over to the campfire. His tin plate and cup were still sitting on the ground, though the borogove had mysteriously disappeared. Memories of the night before swirled in his head. He could practically still smell her sweet scent, feel her luscious curves pressed up against him, her breath whispering against his mouth during those sultry kisses…

"I'm going after them!" Charlie suddenly announced. He traipsed over to his suit of armor and began the process of tugging the armor on over his underclothes.

_Sounds like a brilliant idea,_ he thought to himself. But he told Alice he would stay here and wait for her to come back. And he would honor her wishes, though it was going against every instinct embedded in him. "No, Charlie, don't…just stay here. Let's…uh…maybe find something other than borogove to eat," he suggested noncommittally.

The knight made a strange noise somewhere between a screech and a huff of incredulity. Dropping one of his greaves to the ground, the old man stomped up to him. "Stay here? Are you mad?" he sputtered.

_So it would seem,_ Hatter thought dryly.

"I am sworn to protect her!" Charlie declared dramatically.

Hatter sighed. "And you've done a fine job," he told the man. "But she's in…safe hands."

Charlie saw right through that lame statement. "Oh come off it, Harbinger! You don't believe that anymore than I do! You know something foul is afoot!"

No, Hatter did not know anything. But he certainly had a terrifying feeling of impending doom, most of which centered on the fact that his sweet, brave Alice had been chatting with the Cheshire. The bliss of finally being able to kiss and touch her had shoved those pessimistic thoughts to the back of his mind. But now the box had been reopened in the wake of her absence. _How could you let her go, you stupid git?_ _What the fuck is wrong with you? _For the first time that he could recall, his conscience and Common Sense had a meeting of minds. Normally they were at odds with one another, as his conscience was normally telling him to do something which could result in bodily harm, death, or both and Common Sense was staunchly opposed to that.

"Harbinger, you can't just let her walk away," Charlie insisted. "She needs you now."

Hatter looked up at the canny old knight and shook his head, a wan smile on his face. He then spotted the knight's sword, lying almost forgotten on the ground. He remembered how Alice had looked holding a sword, both yesterday and earlier today. She was a warrior; there was no doubt about that. But then he saw how vulnerable she had loooked while asking him to sleep with her (unfortunately, _only_ sleep) last night, as if she needed him to help chase away nightmares. No matter how strong and capable she was, she was still just a young human woman. She still needed someone to watch her back. For various reasons, Hatter could not trust Jack with something so important.

He nodded towards the knight, rubbing the back of his neck. "All right, Charlie. Get your armor on. We'll trail them," he said. He briefly considered backtracking and telling the knight to stay behind, or, rather, knocking him out senseless since he would inevitably refuse. But the man had proved invaluable on the last undertaking to rescue Alice. He was probably a useful bloke to have around if things got rough.

Charlie's face lit up into a fierce, triumphant smile. He thrust his fist into the air. "Now that's more like it, Harbinger!"

* * *

Jack and Alice traveled at a swift pace, but not so swift that Hatter and Charlie were not able to catch up and keep them in their sights. The young man was absurdly pleased to see Alice still rode upon her own mount though he could tell, even from his distance, that she had trouble controlling the animal. Hatter remembered how she had practically molded against him when they rode Guinevere together. The thought of her doing the same thing with the prince made him nearly want to retch.

They hid from view when the prince and the girl stopped at a gurgling creek to let the horses have a drink and a rest. Hatter's heart beat with an eerie ferocity when he saw the two conversing. He wondered what they were discussing and wished his hearing was as sensitive as Alice's. Instead, with his eyes trained on Alice and Jack, he asked Charlie a question. "So, uh…the oracles or voices or whatever loony thing it is that speaks to you have any idea where they're headed in the city? Is it the Great Library?" He made sure to keep his voice down to a whisper, ever mindful of Alice's preternaturally sharp ears.

"Hmmm…give me a moment to commune with the all-seeing oracle," the knight replied in a low humming voice. He stuck his index fingers up against his temples and began making those bizarre noises he had made in the casino. Though this strange behavior appeared to have worked the last time, Hatter could not help but roll his eyes and shake his head at it.

At length, Charlie finally spoke words in a language Hatter could understand. "I'm seeing a very large building filled with screams and mad laughs…ooh a ghastly place, this is."

Hatter frowned as foreboding descended upon him.

"A place of dreams, but these are no dreams…these are nightmares…" Charlie continued, his voice filled with thoughtful dismay.

When no more clues were forthcoming, Hatter sighed as he tried to decipher those cryptic statements. He certainly did not like the idea of Jack taking Alice to a building filled with screams and nightmares. It only cemented his convictions of this being one elegantly laid trap for the oyster girl. What made it worse was the fact that this time she _would_ have the ring with her. And he knew her well enough by now to know she would fight to keep it from falling into the hands of the Queen of Hearts.

Where could Jack be taking her? Hatter tried to envision a place where Caterpillar might reside in secrecy, hidden from his enemies (and most of his conspirators), but still able to oversee the workings of the Resistance. He mulled over the description Charlie had uttered much like he had when they had been trying to find Alice in the casino.

_A building filled with screams and mad laughs…a place of dreams, but where dreams are nightmares…oh, fucking hell, why can't the bloody oracle give a straight answer? _

Then something clicked in his head and epiphany struck home. Charlie (or, rather, this so-called oracle) must have been referring to the Hospital of Dreams. His hand bit into the branch of the tree he was hiding behind. A feeling of all-consuming dread filled him upon that realization. Jack was taking Alice, an oyster, to a place full of people who had let their tea-addictions physically consume them. Due to the frail nature of Wonderland senses, powerful oyster emotions had an intoxicating effect, especially if a Wonderland native were to become hooked on one specific emotion. Not only could it drive that person mad, it could also physically alter his or her body, almost literally manifesting the emotion he or she had become addicted to. The Hospital of Dreams provided succor and treatment for people such as that. Hatter had no idea how many of his patrons over the years had ended up in that horrid place, but he imagined the numbers were high. For the first time he could remember, a sharp feeling of guilt lanced through him at the thought. But sharper than the guilt was the fear for Alice. She was an oyster with free and potent emotions. It was like throwing a scrap of meat into a pit of starving jabberwocks.

"I know where he's taking her," he whispered to Charlie as they watched Jack and Alice mount up on their horses to begin the second half of their journey.

He grew quiet when he saw that Alice had stopped just before mounting and turned to glance behind her up at the hills surrounding the little nook where she and Jack had stopped. He was too far away to clearly make out the expression on her face, but he could imagine the charming little furrows appearing in her brow. She must have sensed the presence of him and Charlie, but it did not appear as if she could see them. After a few moments, she turned back and pulled herself onto the horse to follow behind Jack.

"Where is the prince taking her?" Charlie inquired.

Hatter kept his gaze on Alice's receding figure, his heart pounding miserably with each step her horse took. "A place called the Hospital of Dreams, although you were right, there are no dreams there…only nightmares."

_So that's where Caterpillar has been hiding, _he mused silently as he and Charlie took to their own steeds. The Hearts never visited the Hospital of Dreams, probably preferring to ignore the severe repercussions of relying on stolen emotions as a cash crop and a method of control.

With the destination no longer obscured, they did not have to strike a balance between keeping Alice and Jack in their sights while simultaneously trying to keep themselves _out_ of sight. But fear quickened their pace nonetheless. The Hospital of Dreams could be a dangerous place for Alice if the patients within realized what she was. He shuddered to think of the consequences. It made him glad the girl decided to keep the coat, which would hide her mark.

They reached the city shortly after Alice and Jack had arrived. The two mares who had served as Alice and Jack's steeds had been left outside the city. They cropped at the grass, barely giving the appearance of Hatter, Charlie, and two more of their own species a flick of the ears.

"Should we leave the horses?" Charlie asked.

Hatter had his attention on the daunting heights of the city, but he shook his head at the question. "No, it'll be easier to make a quick getaway if we have the horses," he replied distractedly. His poor Alice was up there traversing those heights and he knew she must be scared. What he would not give to be by her side now to guide her through those narrow walkways and bridges.

_Be strong, love, I'm right behind you_, he thought to himself, wishing he had been gifted with telepathy so he could send her his assurances.

Guiding the horses up the narrow, winding slopes ascending the levels of the city proved to be tricky. The pathways had not been designed with even normal human traffic in mind, let alone the equine variety. The animals grew skittish whenever they had to cross between different sides, leading them across narrow, dilapidated bridges. But the horses were well-trained, disciplined, and probably more intelligent than most of their brethren. Hatter wondered if they were as old as Charlie. He also found himself relieved that Alice and Jack had left their horses behind. He knew the girl had little experience with riding on flat terrain. There was simply no chance she could have handled a horse on these twisting, narrow, high walkways, especially with her fear of heights.

The knight and the teashop owner did not speak throughout this treacherous vertical journey. A solemn silence had descended under the weight of their mounting concern for Alice as well as their need to focus on keeping the horses under strict control. One misstep could prove fatal.

As luck would have it, the Hospital of Dreams towered into sight just as two figures could be seen crossing the bridge leading towards the double-door entrance. His stomach gave a painful spasm when Alice entered the building. He shakily dismounted from his horse and led the animal to the next building over from the hospital.

"Let us go after them!" Charlie declared fiercely, his hand falling upon the protruding pommel of his sword.

As much as Hatter would have liked to, he knew they could not just go bursting in. There was no indication that Alice was in any danger yet and their appearance could possibly ruin everything. Though it pained him, he realized they would have to just wait outside, watching and listening.

Charlie huffed and grumbled about the plan, but he grudgingly slumped up against the side of the building, his armor grating across the plaster siding. Hatter sighed and leaned his head up against the protruding bulwark.

How much time passed, Hatter could not say. It could have been as little as five minutes or as long as a day. His muscles were strung taut with anxiety and Charlie's incessant singing of nonsensical jingles did not really help matters. While most of the time he appreciated the knight's inexplicably optimistic mood, right now he could only resent it.

"_Oh I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts, deedly dee…there they are a- standing in the road…"_ the knight sang in an ironically jubilant voice.

"Charlie, could you please…not sing that? Whatever it is," Hatter asked, his teeth clamped together in irritation.

The knight wrinkled his nose at him. "Well, what would you like me to sing, then, Harbinger?"

Hatter almost beat his head up against the wall. With his Sledgehammer fist clenched and cocked, he turned to the knight. "How about nothing, Charlie! This is not a fun little jaunt we're on…this is bloody fucking serious so act like it!"

As soon as his rant was concluded, Hatter immediately felt overcome by guilt. The knight's mustache drooped and his pale blue eyes regarded him with a wounded look.

"I'm sorry, Charlie," Hatter said remorsefully. "That was…uncalled for."

The knight gave him a sympathetic look and reached out to give the younger man a compassionate pat on the shoulders. "Ah, my boy, Lady Alice will be just fine, I'm sure. She's a doughty young warrior herself. Why I imagine—"

Whatever Charlie had been about to say next was brutally cut short by the echoing crack of a gunshot. Hatter whirled around, his heart freezing with terror. The gunshot had come from the Hospital of Dreams.

"Alice," Hatter whispered with horror.

When no more gunshots were to follow, he hoped the single one had merely been a warning shot. But warning shot or not, it likely meant that it either _had_ all been a trap or Mad March had merely found them on his own, which was a distinct possibility. When the assassin had been alive (and sporting a more human head), he had had the instincts and senses of a bloodhound. Hatter imagined his post-mortem senses were only keener.

He gripped the side of the building, frantically craning his neck up to try to see what was happening. His heart raced in terror, his entire body suddenly becoming jittery and cold. Hatter knew it would be foolish to simply barge into the hospital with what was likely to be an entire armed detail of Suits who could shoot him down before he even took three steps. He needed to calm down, he needed to think this through…

_Calm down, mate. You're not going to be of much help to her if you jump the gun and try to play hero. If Mad March has got them, he's going to have to come out…of course, he must have entered the building by a different way otherwise you'd have seen him._

"What are we going to do, Harbinger?" Charlie asked. "Harbinger?"

Hatter held up a hand. Though his system was coursing with panic, his tone was surprisingly composed. "Just hang on, Charlie. If we go barging in there, we'd probably only get ourselves killed. Now, they're going to have to come out, and considering they're headed towards the casino, I'd wager they're coming out the front door. We need to wait for the opportune moment."

"And that would be…?"

Hatter scratched his head, his worried dark eyes turning back towards the casino. "When we have the tactical advantage." _And by tactical advantage, I mean when the odds of us being captured or killed is only 95 percent as opposed to 100 percent._

After another agonizing stretch of time in which Hatter's conviction to remain where he was and wait patiently was eroding, the front doors to the casino were opened. A small part of him had been hoping the gunshot had been an unrelated, isolated incident or a fluke. Hell, he had even been trying to convince himself he had imagined it. Unfortunately, all those silly wishes were dashed to pieces when he saw slickly dressed Suits parade out the door and onto the slim walkway.

Hatter's muscles coiled up when Jack was brought out, but he relaxed just slightly when he saw that the prince was obviously a prisoner. His hands were tied behind his back and his expression was glum. So unless he was ridiculously committed to role-playing, it would seem that the prince had indeed been a genuine Resistance agent and had been caught up in the net as surely as Alice must be. It made the teashop owner's regard for the royal climb up by just a smidgen.

"Oh black day," Charlie lamented once Alice came into view. Hatter said nothing, but he blanched at the sight of her.

She was escorted by a man who must have been one of the casino laboratory workers judging by the yellow lab coat. Hatter did not even stop to wonder why a lab worker would be here, although he thought the man looked vaguely familiar. But it was not the lab worker he was interested in. He drank in the sight of Alice. At first, all he felt was relief that she was alive and not manifesting any telltale gunshot wounds. Upon further clandestine inspection, however, he saw that something was not right with the way she was moving. The lab worker was not so much escorting her as he was physically supporting her. Alice's normally healthy complexion was replaced by a sickly pallor and she was wincing as they moved onto the walkway. The girl's movements lacked the effortless fluidity they normally displayed. Now they appeared hesitant and unsteady. It disconcerted him, not to mention angered him.

_She's hurt…but I don't see any wounds or injuries. She must have put up a fight…oh, that daft girl._

There was only one individual who could be responsible for Alice's obscure affliction, and he had just strutted out of the lobby doors, his ceramic head held up high. Hatter had never wanted to pummel another person into a sludge of blood, tissue, and bone so much before. That bastard had somehow hurt his Alice. The teashop owner watched with growing fury as Mad March stopped before Alice and the lab worker. Hatter felt his Sledgehammer flex in anticipation. But the rabbit-headed man merely loped around the two to front the grim procession.

As they began to move, Hatter dropped back to the wall and drew in a deep breath. Before he spoke, he made a silent vow to make an end of Mad March if it was the last thing he would ever do. "Okay," he said to Charlie, forcing himself to draw in more deep breaths to calm his frayed nerves. "Okay, I know there are a lot of Suits out there, but if we let them reach the casino, there's gonna be a whole lot more. We have to take them now."

The knight's question completely caught Hatter off guard. "Are you serious?"

_What the hell? Does he think I'm just talking to make sounds…_ "Yes," Hatter replied shortly, turning to stare at the knight in astonishment. "Right now's the only tactical advantage we're going to get. We've got the element of surprise and we have the horses." He turned to scan the surroundings off in the distance, noticing the Suits were headed towards a narrow alley through two separate buildings. He pointed ahead. "You see that bottleneck up there?"

"Um, well, yes…but…" the knight grumbled with trepidation.

"If I go in swinging and keep the Suits busy for a bit, that should give you enough time to jump in there, grab Alice, and ride off…" Hatter proposed. He had made that plan up on the spot. There was no hesitance in his words, no self-doubt. He realized he was essentially trading his life for Alice's, and, when once that would have made him rethink things, now it was regarded with bleak acceptance. He had already reached and crossed the threshold where there was nothing he would not do for that girl.

"Swinging?" Charlie asked as if he did not understand. "Bottleneck?"

Hatter paid no heed to the knight's hesitance and seeming incomprehension. His mind was racing in tandem with his heart. Holding his hand out, he told the older man, "I'm gonna need a sword." More specifically, he was going to require Charlie's sword, as that was the only sword they had brought with them.

"Um…well…" the knight stuttered.

Without waiting for a more lucid response, Hatter grabbed the hilt of Charlie's sword and slid it out of the scabbard hanging by the knight's side. The blade felt foreign in his grip, but he gave it an experimental jab anyway. With the weapon in hand, he then turned to the old knight and clapped him on his armored shoulder.

"Show me what knights are made of," he intoned before heading for Guinevere.

Hatter was already moving to outflank the regiment of Suits at the bottleneck before Charlie finally started to follow upon his own steed. He held the reins with his left hand and the long sword in his right while making a few clumsy practice swings. He tried to emulate that flick of the wrist Alice had done which had sent the blade of the sword swinging in a circular motion. But then he nearly ended up dropping the weapon. Honestly, sword fighting looked simple to an untutored observer, but it was far more complicated than he had given it credit for. If they survived long enough, he considered possibly asking Alice to teach him how to use one properly. For now, however, a surprise ambush was going to have to be enough.

He waited at the entrance of the bottlenecked alleyway, panic and determination writ on his features. Charlie cantered up behind him and he signaled for the older man to stop and stay quiet. The Suits were getting closer.

"You ready?" he asked Charlie, turning back to glance at him. The knight did not answer, but Hatter had already turned around, his grip tightening on the hilt of the sword. "One…two…Yaaa!"

Hatter kicked Guinevere into a gallop and he burst upon a group of Suits, swiping at them with Charlie's sword. Shouts of alarm rose up and, as he had hoped, many of the Suits came rushing towards this new, unexpected threat. Only a few remained by Alice and the lab worker, who was essentially a non-threat in Hatter's opinion.

"Hatter!" he heard Alice shout in a mixture of astonishment and despair.

Unfortunately, the sword proved ineffectual in keeping the Suits at bay. Hatter just did not know how to use one and once one of the Suits latched onto his right arm, he knew their window of opportunity had just narrowed to a few precious seconds.

"Now, Charlie!" he bellowed while trying to keep his balance on the horse. Poor Guinevere, frightened by all the men surrounding her, reared up and lashed out with her hooves. Suits fell back to avoid the hooves, but once they hit the ground they came flying back again.

"Hatter, oh god! Get out of here!" Alice cried.

"Charlie!" Hatter screamed, wondering why the knight had not come swooping in to snatch Alice. He frantically glanced toward the spot where they had been waiting and then his jaw dropped along with the leaden weight in his stomach. Charlie, the White Knight, was riding hard. It was just in the opposite direction.

"Charlie…what the…!" He felt his body wrench to the side as multiple Suits grabbed him in multiple places and he tumbled hard to the ground with a painful gasp, the sword scattering out of his grasp. The air flew from his lungs at the impact, and it was prevented from properly reentering by the Suits who practically piled on top of him.

"No! Get off him!" Alice screamed from his periphery.

There was no way he could get to her. No less than six Suits were pinning him to the ground, spreading out his legs and arms and jabbing their knees into his ribs. More Suits stood, forming a ring around him. Hatter let his head drop to the ground in defeat. He had failed her, utterly and completely. Desolation gripped him in its painful hold.

"Well, well, well…" Hatter felt his blood freeze at the sound of that voice. He craned his neck up as much as his current, spread-eagled position would allow, to see Mad March approaching him with a cocky jaunt to his steps. "What a nice surprise." There was morbid excitement in that creature's tone.

"No! You mother fuckers, get away from him!" he heard Alice scream, her voice hoarse and cracked.

Hatter turned his neck to try to get a view of her at least one more time before their inevitable deaths. He wanted to tell her he was sorry that he had failed her, that he had allowed for everything to come to this. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry they did not have more time together. But, most of all, he wanted to tell her he loved her. All those things flew from his mind when he saw that Alice apparently did not plan to just stand by. She shook off the hold of the lab worker and, ignoring protests from the man as well as Jack, she ran towards the group of Suits holding the unfortunate teashop owner to the ground.

"Alice, don't!" Hatter gasped out. She had no business trying to pick a fight now. She was injured, unsteady on her feet, and Mad March was standing right there. There was no way this could end well. Fear tore into him.

But, of course, she ignored Hatter's protest and all but plowed into the group of men. Her hands shot out to grab the shoulders of one of the men and she tossed him aside, sending him sailing several feet back into the alleyway. Her fist lashed out and caught one man in the jaw at the same time that her leg had snapped out behind her to connect with one Suit's chest.

In an effort to evade the girl, Hatter was hauled up by two Suits and dragged back a few feet. He struggled against his captors, but his Sledgehammer fist was of no use if he could not pull it back for a punch. The young man could then only watch helplessly as Alice was waylaid by several Suits at once, a veritable human barricade between the two of them.

Even though she was likely not at her best, her moves had a deadly, beautiful grace to them, almost like she was dancing with the Suits. It was like watching a work of art in motion. As much as he was horrified by the danger she was putting herself in, he could not help but be enthralled by her at that moment. If this was how a Slayer fought when injured, he could only imagine how much more formidable one would be when in top form.

For some reason, Mad March was not making a move to stop her. The assassin merely stood and watched, his hands shaking as if he wanted to jump in and knock the girl flat. Whatever it was that withheld him, Hatter was grateful for it.

The cluster of Suits, through sheer advantage in numbers, backed the girl right up against the edge of the drop-off. "Alice!" Hatter yelled in warning. For once, it appeared, her fear of heights had been put by the wayside. She did not seem to care or notice that she was only one step away from about a thousand foot drop. But _he_ noticed, and it sent his pulse racing in terror.

"Alice, watch the drop-off!" he shouted. His captors only dragged him further away in spite of his cursing, wriggling protests.

"Hatter!" the girl cried when she saw that he was being carted off. He glanced up to meet her wild-eyed gaze, which she kept upon him even as she flipped a Suit over.

What happened next would forever burn itself into Hatter's memory and haunt his dreams. The young man could do nothing but watch in devastating horror as one Suit managed to score in a lucky blow right across Alice's face. Perhaps if the girl had not been injured in a way which tampered with her natural sense of balance, things would not have fallen out as they had. Perhaps if she had not been so concerned for Hatter, she would have realized how close she was to the edge. But, as it was, the girl had been inexplicably injured and was thus not in top fighting form, and she _was_ distracted by her concern for the teashop owner. Too distracted to realize she was standing right on the very edge of the precipice. When the Suit delivered the blow to her head, the girl rocked back on her heels, her arms instinctively flying out to the sides in a vain effort to regain equilibrium.

"Oh god…NOOOO!" Hatter screamed, lunging forward. His captors snapped him back like a sling-shot and he was thrown to the ground, but not before his eyes beheld the dreadful and tragic scene unfolding at the edge of the drop-off.

Before any of the Suits had realized what was happening, Alice had lost the split-second fight to regain her balance. Amidst collective gasps of shock and multiple screams of anguish, the young Slayer fell backwards off the edge and disappeared into a thousand-foot, free-falling descent.

* * *

Aw, how cute, they tried to save each other...and failed miserably...wow, how morbid. Um, yeah, so...that was my muse's idea to drop Alice off a cliff, I swear...she's a cruel, sadistic thing, she is...

Review, please? You know you at least want to threaten me in some way for leaving you at such a cliff-hanger (no pun intended)


	22. We All Fall Down

So, yeah, we've got a veritable sea of misery to wade through for a few chapters. Just bear with me and trust me when I say good things come to those who wait and review…

* * *

**Chapter XXI: **We All Fall Down

Body armor had prevented a bullet from tearing a hole into his chest. Instead of a hole, all he had to show for the unpleasant meeting with the end of the firearm was a motley colored bruise. It had ached fiercely for a long while afterwards, but the pain had eventually died down to mere twinges.

Hatter's armor could not protect him from this new hole and the pain from this wound was infinitely vast and crushing. It was like someone had taken Charlie's damned, ultimately useless sword and run it right through his heart. An indefinable agony ripped through him, blotting out the pain of his crashing impact with the ground courtesy of the Suits.

"No!" The wail of denial was raw with the barely tapped edge of grief. "God…no…Alice!" His vision grew hazy, all blood-red around the edges. He could hear others screaming, one of them probably that prince. There was another screaming Alice's name as well, but Hatter was too lost in the abyss of his own thunderstruck anguish to register the voice.

He writhed under the weight of the two Suits who held him down, kicking and bucking against them. Consciously, he was aware there was no true reason to continue fighting. They had lost the battle, possibly also the war. He had _failed._ And the price for that failure had proved to be more than he could bear.

_Alice._

She was gone.

Alice was dead because of his foolish urge to be the hero. If he had not busted in on the procession, she would not have tried to fight over a dozen Suits to try to save him. She would have steered clear of the heights she had always been so deathly scared of.

Well, her fears had been justified.

Alice was dead. The words rang through his head with a ringing note of devastating finality. His eyes began to burn.

Even if the Resistance somehow did overthrow the Queen of Hearts, there was nothing more left for Hatter. Whatever potential had been blooming of a life involving the two of them together had been utterly destroyed. A future without even the possibility of Alice…it stretched out before him like a dark, lonely road. He could not even stomach the thought.

So, why was he still fighting? Why was he still struggling to get free? There was no point to it anymore. His death was sure to follow soon anyway. Small mercy, that. At least then he would not have to try to face a hollow, dismal future without _her_.

Two additional Suits clamped down on his legs. He knew on some level they were ordering him to be still while throwing in more than a few threats of physical repercussions. But he could not make out the words. Just like Alice had fallen, he was falling. Falling into a black pit of emotions from which there was no conceivable way out.

Rage. Failure. Pain. Grief. Sorrow. Guilt. Despair. Desolation. An overwhelming sense of loss. There seemed to be no limit to the darkness impinging on Hatter's bereaved soul. His soul did not even feel whole, if it were possible to even feel like that. It felt like part of it had been cut from him, _torn_ from him much like Alice had been torn from him.

These types of emotions were not marketed. The queen had forbidden any purely negative emotions be extracted from oysters. How could she keep a populace content without lifting a finger if her people could feel deep sorrow or grief? A person in emotional pain was not a pliable, content person. She thrived on the wave of manufactured happiness and bliss. People who were happy, even if the happiness was but a crude veneer, were much easier to control.

Besides, who would actively want to seek out those feelings anyway? People instinctively shunned dark emotions. Over half of the emotions that were siphoned from the oysters and processed into drinkable teas existed for the sole reason of countering and neutralizing negative emotions. Clear Conscience to counter Guilt, Hope to counter Despair, Elation to counter Sorrow…

Somehow Hatter knew all the Elation, Hope, and Clear Conscience in the world could not help him.

Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, eventually slowed his struggles. His breaths came in forced and shallow. There were a multitude of voices swirling around him. Little by little, the words began to seep through. Most of them belonged to the queen's men who had been thoroughly stunned and dismayed by the loss of their oyster captive.

"Shit, we're all gonna lose our noggins now," one of the Suits holding Hatter down mumbled bleakly.

The Minister of Clubs was pitching quite a fit. "You idiots…you incompetent fools! Do you realize what you've done? The queen ordered the girl be brought back to her alive so she could mete out her own punishment…and now…" His sentence stopped there, interrupted by the muffled, incoherent moans of a man. It sounded almost like this man had something covering his mouth, compressing it to keep him from speaking.

"Carpenter, please, be calm…you're just traumatized from the kidnapping...delusional…oh this is fantastic!" Hatter could not see what was happening being pinned to the ground by four Suits as he was. But he could hear the fear and anger in the man's voice. He had been put in charge, and so he would have to shoulder the lion's share of the blame for this tragic mishap.

_Carpenter? Isn't he the queen's head scientist? What would he be doing here? Was that the bloke with Alice? _In spite of the desolate grief gnawing away at him, his mind was as canny and quick as ever. Like a reflex, he hooked onto that small detail and filed it in his mind to see where it fit with the pattern of events which had gone heart-wrenchingly awry.

"See what else your carelessness has done!" There was more scuffling and grunts until Hatter heard a harsh _THWACK_! followed by a thud.

"Mad March!"

"What?" the assassin replied, sounding supremely unconcerned. "You didn't want him to get free and start mouthing off orders for me to off you all, did you? Lucky for you the queen's orders take precedence. And the way I see it, the old cow was going to kill that little bitch anyway. Mission accomplished."

Hatter flinched at that remark.

"You murdering bastards!" That was the prince. His normally cultured, prim voice was roughened by the same grief which gripped Hatter. "You will all pay for this, I swear it! I swear it on my life and birthright I will have all your heads for what you've done!"

Though the teashop owner did not want to feel it, a sense of mawkish empathy came over him. It could not be denied now that the prince must have cared for Alice even though he had lied to her and betrayed her. He did not like to have anything in common with that priggish man, but they had both lost Alice today. And they were both equally responsible for her death. Jack had brought her here in the first place, waving the promise of reunion with her long-lost father like a wriggling worm on a hook. Hatter had sealed her fate by trying to save her, ultimately leading to her demise.

The road to hell was indeed paved with good intentions.

"Aw, wouldn't Mommy be so proud to see wittle Jackie demanding beheadings like a regular chip off the old block," cut in Mad March maliciously. "Too bad Mommy Dearest is probably gonna have your head before you get the chance to take anyone else's."

"I suppose someone should go down there and retrieve the body at least," the Minister of Clubs noted in a tone which fully suggested he did not want to be that person.

Unbidden and unwelcome, an image of Alice's body, broken, bloodied, and lifeless as it now surely was, flashed into Hatter's thoughts. He shuddered, and fresh tears spilled over the crest of his cheeks. He was barely clinging to his sanity as it was. Were he to see her body, he felt certain that would be the straw that broke the camel's back.

But, then, that might be a relief to give in to the madness which beckoned him…called to him…

_Give in,_ it seemed to chant. _You can forget everything…forget your pain…forget Alice._

But he could not make himself forget her. Memory was all he had left to him now.

"Meh," was Mad March's trademark response of indifference. "Sure, you do that, on top of carrying the rest of these unconscious schmucks back to the casino. _I_ can't touch her, though, remember?"

A pregnant pause reigned for the next few minutes. Hatter's heart fluttered weakly in his chest, as if it no longer had much of a will to continue beating any longer. Her name echoed in his thoughts like a chant.

_She didn't even scream when she fell…_

"What do we do about this one, Sir?" The question had been posed by one of the Suits holding Hatter to the ground. The teashop owner knew they were referring to him.

"Oh, I have a few ideas," Mad March remarked.

"We will take him to the casino," answered the Minister of Clubs, completely ignoring the assassin's remark. "He's an insider with the Resistance. The queen will no doubt want him to be interrogated."

_Interrogated? What bullshit! _Interrogation was just a simple way of saying he was going to be sent to the Truth Room so the Tweedles could apply their vicious and unorthodox methods of information extraction. Once that would have frozen his blood with terror. Now, he could not bring himself to care overly much about his fate. His sense of self-preservation had once reigned supreme. It had been downgraded once Alice's life became more important than his own. Now that she was gone, his life seemed to be have been stripped of meaning.

_But you can't give up anything, Hatter._ His conscience apparently wanted to taunt him in his grief by taking on Alice's sweet voice. _You can't let them win…Alice would not have wanted you to give up…_

"_You and I both know you don't fight for a cause merely on behalf of people you know or care about." _

Hatter let out a defeated sigh, his muscles loosening and sagging underneath the weight of the Suits. He could not let the Resistance down now. Even though he was surely going to be executed, the least he could do was muster up his strength and use it to thwart the methods of the Tweedles. Alice had been charged with bringing down the queen, but now that was surely not going to happen by her hands. Hatter could not bring down the queen in her stead, but he could ensure the Resistance would still have a fighting chance.

Besides, whatever torments the Tweedles could devise would surely pale in comparison to what had already happened. The woman he loved was dead. That alone gave him a strange, perverted sense of invulnerability. What more could the mad doctors do to him?

Once it was clear the man was not going to fight them, the Suits eased off of him and lifted him to his feet. It was difficult to stand at first since Hatter's legs had gone somewhat numb from the pressure of the Suits cutting off the circulation to the lower limbs. He instinctively turned his gaze away from that wretched edge where Alice had fallen. The grief inside him was still so fresh and powerful.

In the short time that she had been fighting, Alice had managed to do quite a bit of damage to the Suits. Five of them had been knocked completely out of commission, including the one who had been sent sailing into the narrow alleyway. A few others were awake, but suffered from a range of injuries including one broken arm.

The lab worker who had been escorting Alice was ignominiously slung over Mad March's shoulder, his arms dangling up against the assassin's hips. That must have been Carpenter. Hatter had never really met the man who had created the process of extracting emotions from oysters, making him the ultimate supplier of his shop—_former_ shop. Why was the man here? And why had they had to knock him out?

A brief glimpse of his face, however, answered all those questions. Even through the haze of grief, he realized he had seen that man's face before. Hatter's jaw dropped as recognition overcame him. He had thought the man looked familiar before, but he had been too far away and too distracted by his worry for Alice to _really_ see it.

That man's face had been in the pictures from Alice's memories back in the Truth Room. That man was Alice's father.

Her father was the Carpenter.

* * *

Had Alice been in any condition at all to think coherently, she would have been rebuking herself. She had thrown herself into a battle without a second thought—mistake number one. She had allowed herself to be herded to the edge—how had she missed _that_? She had been sloppy and careless, focusing only on trying to get to Hatter.

_Hatter._

That had been the last thing on her mind before that Suit's hand cracked across her face. Under normal circumstances such a blow could have been easily brushed off. Slayers did not have glass jaws, especially in regards to regular human strength. But a series of random mishaps had aligned to put Alice in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time. Her sense of equilibrium had already been skewed thanks to Mad March's brutal act of introducing her head with solid concrete. She had been standing on the very edge of the precipice, for once unmindful of how close she was to the thing which she had always feared so much.

Put that equation together and it yields disaster.

Just like when she had been falling through the Looking Glass and from the Scarab, thought and breath were suspended. Luckily for her, Slayer instinct did not exactly require conscious thought.

Something hard and thick smacked into her back, exacerbating the injuries to her much abused posterior ribs. A shockwave of tremors ran through her spine. Whatever it was that she had hit cracked under her weight with the added momentum of gravity behind it. It broke, but it had slowed Alice's descent enough that when she hit the next obstacle, she instinctively maneuvered around so her hands could latch onto it. She flipped over the object, leaving her body to dangle freely. The object buckled severely but, miraculously, it held her weight.

Alice took a few moments to suck in huge breaths of air. A jittery relief hit her like a wave. She had fallen from the very top level of the city. By all rights, she should be dead, a smashed up remnant of a human being on the bottom. But she was alive.

"Holy shit," she gasped, looking around and seeing that she was holding onto a tree branch.

One of those enormous trees which inexplicably jutted out of the side of the buildings or on the very narrow outcroppings had caught her safely in its hold. Though it was not the first time nor would it be the last that she had brushed so closely with death, her head spun from the knowledge of it. A glance downward told her she would have still had quite a distance to fall before hitting the bottom and her stomach clenched.

"Holy shit," she repeated in awe.

Alice swung her legs over to a lower hanging branch and, with another deep breath, pulled the rest of her body over to grasp the thick trunk of the tree. She quickly wrapped her arms around it and rested her head against it. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest just as her head pounded with the residual effects of being slammed against the ground.

"Okay, you fell off a cliff…a bit of a setback, but you're not dead and you have the ring, so all you've gotta do is get back up there…and…oh Jesus…I fell off a cliff! I fell off a fucking cliff!" She would have beaten her head against the trunk if it had not already suffered enough damage.

But she did not have time to hug this tree trunk and come to terms with the fact that the thing which she had always feared the most nearly killed her. Hatter was up there in the hands of the Suits. He had tried to rescue her. The idiot had come after her! She did not know whether she wanted to smack him or kiss him for such bravado. Probably both. But neither of those things would be possible if he was taken to the casino. Mad March would kill him and the thought sent her heart pumping rapidly again and her blood ran cold.

_Oh god…Hatter! Please hang on! I'm coming!_

As fate would have it, the tree she landed in happened to be one of the ones with roots ground deep into a grassy outcropping. She shimmied around the trunk as fast as she could manage and then, placing her heel against the trunk, she launched herself off the tree and onto the ground. The relief of standing upon solid ground rather than dangling in the air was short-lived. Panic set her in motion. She had no idea how far she had fallen, but she had to reach the top before the procession left, taking Hatter with them.

Alice did not really know her way around the city levels, but she was able to figure out which paths ascended up to the next level easily enough. She moved swiftly, her blood pulsing in fear with every step. Her body ached all over, but not as much as her heart ached. When she had seen those men pull Hatter from his horse, she had suddenly forgotten about her injuries. Seized by anger, fear, and protectiveness, she had bolted to his defense without any thought for her own health.

_I will find a way to rip out that rabbit's spine if he hurts him, I swear to god._

She reached the top level, but the Hospital of Dreams was nowhere in sight. There were several paths and alleys, none of which bore a convenient label denoting where it led.

_Goddammit, why wasn't I paying attention when Jack dragged me through here? Oh yeah, cuz of the heights…fucking heights…_

Ever aware of the ticking of the proverbial clock, she chose a path at random and ran. All the while she prayed they would still be where she had left them, or, at least close enough. If she took them by surprise she may just be able to free Hatter. Of course, that may have been what he had planned when she had been their captive. In the end, his plan had succeeded, albeit in an unorthodox and extremely terrifying way.

Her pace quickened when she saw the Hospital of Dreams and the narrow walkway extending from the front of it. She was already on the side opposite the hospital, so all she had to do was round the corner into the alleyway and…

See absolutely nothing but an empty clearing.

She slowed to a halt, her stomach dropping with dismay.

"No," she whispered aloud, shaking her head.

They were gone. Her father, Mad March, the bowler hat man, all those Suits…Hatter.

_Hatter._

Well, there was one thing still left of him. His brown porkpie hat lay crumpled and unforgotten on the ground. All the world narrowed into tunnel vision, centering on that hat. She slowly approached it. Still as stone, she stared at it in her desolation for a few moments before kneeling to pick it up. Her fingers ran over the brim almost in a loving caress. Her eyes grew wet and she blinked furiously.

An indescribable rage began to take hold of her. Her hand curled around Hatter's hat as she drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Clutching the hat to her, she stood and sent a death glare down the direction the posse of Suits must have gone. She may not have known her way to the casino, but the men who had taken Hatter did. A group that large did not travel without leaving evidence of their passage, although to the untrained eye most evidence would be invisible. Luckily for Alice, her eyes _were_ trained to notice such things.

The Slayer began to follow the trail.

* * *

Yeah, I realize I had split the perspectives, which I usually don't do with Hatter and Alice, but I felt it was necessary for this chapter.

All I have to say is hell hath no fury like a Slayer whose man is threatened…Anyone remember Buffy from Season 2: What's My Line: Part 2?

Anyway, reviews would be most welcome!


	23. A Father's Fury

Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, everyone. My boyfriend was up to visit me for my birthday and so I took a break from writing to spend some quality time with him. I do want to thank all my readers and reviewers and also extend a welcome to the newcomers!

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**Chapter XXII: **A Father's Fury

The Queen of Hearts surveyed the group of Suits standing before the dais with a critical eye. It seemed their number had shrunk in size from the original amount she had sent out to capture that little tramp of an oyster who had stolen her ring. Even more galling was the lack of said oyster girl. Her eyes narrowed in tandem with the clenching of her fists. She had specifically ordered they bring the girl back to her alive so she could have the pleasure of removing that head with its snarky little mouth herself.

Why could none of her servants demonstrate even the slightest bit of competence?

They did not come without captives though. Her traitorous spawn had been dragged back here, his hands held behind his back with two Suits standing behind him. The prince glared up at her with eyes that appeared to be swollen and red. She tilted her head to the side, her brow wrinkling at that. Had he been crying over his predicament? While she knew her son to be a disgusting excuse for a Heart, an insult to her womb, she had never known him to be a coward.

A glance at the other captive showed that he, too, was sporting extremely bloodshot eyes. It took a few moments before she realized she recognized this second captive. It was that proprietor of the Tea House who had turned out to be a member of the Resistance. Like her son, this man was a traitor to the crown. Who knew how much information he had sold to that rabble? The delicious heat of anger suffused her blood, no doubt bringing a flush of color to her cheeks. If there was one emotion the Queen of Hearts had never had any problems feeling on her own, it was most definitely Rage.

"Your Majesty…" Number Ten, her Minister of Clubs, spoke tremulously. He stood in front of the group, his hands clasped before him. The man was practically shaking in his boots as he gazed up at her with remorse and fear.

"Where is the oyster?" the queen demanded succinctly. That was the first problem she wanted to address.

"She…she…" her servant stuttered. He wiped his sweaty brow. "I'm afraid we ran into complications with detaining the oyster, Ma'am."

"Complications?" At the venomous note in her voice, fawning courtiers which hung about the throne with near slavish devotion drifted back to become nearly one with the walls.

Number Ten swallowed nervously. "Well, you see, Ma'am, we had captured her and the prince at the Hospital of Dreams. We were bringing them back as you ordered when…" He halted his sentence and turned to glance at the teashop owner. "This one showed up to try his hand at a rescue attempt."

The air fairly crackled around the queen. She raked her glance over this man, wondering how such a pitiful wretch of a creature could ever work up the nerve for such an act. What stood in the throne room now was a broken down husk of a man. Even she could see that.

"We think it was some kind of a distraction, Ma'am, something to draw the Suits away from the girl so she could get away," Number Ten went on to explain.

"You let her escape!" the queen spat, rising to her feet. Her husband shot her an anxious look, which she completely ignored.

Number Ten flinched, his hands instinctively rising up to rub at a neck he likely feared would be relieved of its top weight very soon. He was right to worry, for the queen was feeling wrathful enough to remove the heads of the entire lot standing before her and perhaps some of those sycophants hugging the walls just for the sheer fun of it.

"Well, no, Ma'am, the girl did not run away. She…she started fighting the Suits in an effort to save this man. As you know, Your Majesty, she's very strong and fast. Even with the greater numbers of the men…she…was cutting them down quite easily."

Well, that explained why there seemed to be far fewer Suits than before. She regarded Mad March who was nearly impossible to read due to that ceramic rabbit head which showed no expression. "Why didn't you stop her?"

The formerly dead assassin shrugged indifferently, an act which he knew infuriated her. "Couldn't lay a hand on her till we reached the casino…or so I was told."

"Told? By whom?" No one had the authority to command Mad March save for herself and Carpenter. She certainly had not been there, and nor would she had issued such a daft command. That left only one other person, but that was preposterous. Carpenter did not involve himself in such matters. He cared only for his work in the laboratory, which was how the queen preferred it.

Mad March was silent. Number Ten was wringing his hands anxiously.

"Number Ten," the queen barked.

The man flinched again. "Carpenter, Your Majesty. He was there, brought by Resistance agents who had been working undercover in the lab."

"_What?_" The rage in that one word was palpable. "What did they want with him?" That was a silly question. Of course the Resistance would target Carpenter, as he was the means by which the queen had affected her grand plan. It was he who had devised a way to extract the emotions from the oysters, of keeping them in a perpetual dream-like state for the duration of their captivity. He was the key to all her success.

"It would appear, Ma'am, that Carpenter is the father of the oyster girl," Number Ten clarified.

There were a few sharp intakes of breath. The queen was surprised by this information, but she covered it well. Instead, she laid an icy glare upon her son. This revelation finally answered some questions for her.

"I knew there was a reason you singled her out," she said to him.

But none of this explained why the oyster girl was not here in the throne room, waiting to be decapitated, as she had ordered. Before she got to the bottom of the matter with Carpenter—who was also decidedly absent from the throne room—she wanted to know what happened to the oyster girl and her ring.

"Where is the girl?"

Number Ten drew in a deep breath. "She…well, you see the men sort of backed her up to the cliff edge without realizing it. And…one thing led to another and it would seem the girl lost her balance…and…fell." He looked away from his liege.

"She _what_?" It was not that the queen was distraught over the girl's apparent death. She _was_ peeved to have been robbed of the chance to watch the girl die with her own two eyes. But dead was dead.

"I am sorry, Your Majesty. It was an accident, I swear it," Number Ten pleaded.

"Did you at least search her before you dropped her off the cliff?" the queen asked. The Tweedles had brought back the girl's confession of the ring's location from the Truth Room. It would seem the girl had hidden the ring in her own world. At first the she had been driven mad by fury over the notion. But then doubt began to niggle in her head. There was a chance the girl had been lying, had deliberately written down a false location just to throw them off the scent. After all, the girl had known there was no way she could return home without the ring.

"No, Your Majesty," Number Ten confessed. "The prince claimed the ring was still hidden away."

Her eyes flew to her son, who was silently observing the entire exchange. "And you took his word for it you incompetent oaf! Tell me you at least searched Jack and the other one."

"We did, Ma'am. Neither of them has the ring," Number Ten replied.

Jack took this opportunity to speak up. His voice was curiously harsh with emotion. "You'll never find the ring, Mother! Only Alice knew where it was hidden."

"Be silent, you traitorous scum!" she scolded. Turning her attention to Number Ten, her eyes flashed. "You failed me. I cannot abide failure! Off with—"

"Dearest," her husband cut in, "if I may make a suggestion. The girl's not going anywhere. Why don't we let Number Ten take some men with him to search her body just to be thorough?"

The queen glared at her spouse, but there was a modicum of sense to his words. Number Ten also had proved himself to be resentfully invaluable in the past. It would be difficult to find a replacement to equal his caliber. She did not like to be thought of as one who gave second chances, for she felt such a thing made her seem weak. But she was also a woman of practicality. So, with extreme reluctance, she nodded her head.

"Very well. Number Ten, assemble some men and go back to the bottom of the city. Dig through what's left of this girl and see if she had my ring."

Number Ten bowed graciously, his entire body quaking from relief instead of fear.

"But first, tell me what happened with Carpenter. He seems to be missing." She swept her gaze over the group once more, crossing her arms over her considerable bosom.

"He's in the infirmary, Ma'am…took a blow to the head," Number Ten answered.

There was something else, too. She could see it in the demeanor of her servant, the nervous way his eyes continually darted around. One did not rule over an entire people without perfecting the ability to read those people through subtle cues and nuances of body language.

"Number Ten," she said impatiently.

Number Ten sighed dolefully. "Mad March was forced to incapacitate him because once the girl fell…" He looked away from the queen before finishing his statement, "he woke up."

* * *

When he awoke, he remembered nothing at first.

He immediately had to shut his eyes at the stab of pain which spiked through his head from the overhanging fluorescent lights. All he knew for the first few minutes of consciousness was the sensation that his head was about three times its normal size and an overwhelming urge to vomit. He could feel and hear the beat of his heart through every pulse of blood which circulated through his head.

The man slowly sat up while squinting at his surroundings, which currently appeared to be a collection of fuzzy, indistinct white and silver shapes. He did not need to see to be able to surmise that he was in a bed. The mattress was stiff with crisp linen sheets stretched tightly over it. A hospital bed came to mind, which, when added to the unremitting throbbing of his skull, pointed to him being in some sort of medical facility. He swept a hand up to the back of his skull where the pain was most persistent. There was a sizable knot on the occipital bone.

As he slowly accustomed himself to the brightness and throbbing, blurry memories began to sharpen into focus. He recalled being snatched away from his work in the laboratory by two of his own technicians. He had been working late into the night, a breakthrough in how to prolong the use of the oysters. Then they brought him to that place, that rooftop area, and held him there in spite of his indignant protests.

And then _she_ had come.

Alice.

He remembered everything then. He was Robert Hamilton, an oyster, a scientist, a professor, a husband…a father.

"Alice," he moaned, dropping his face into his palms. "What have I done?"

Guilt, grief, and shock hit him like a tidal wave. He doubled over as the nausea roiling in his stomach intensified. Over and over in his mind that dreadful scene replayed. Alice, though injured and unsteady on her feet, taking on a whole group of Suits just to try to reach that crazy young man who had come galloping in on horseback. Alice being backed up to the edge of the cliff, seemingly unaware of the danger just inches behind her. Alice taking a hit to the face, throwing her off her balance.

Alice falling, the boy screaming.

There had been a sensation of a dam breaking inside his mind, unleashing a torrent of memories which had been out of his grasp for years. She had tried to tell him before on the rooftop who he was and who she was. But he had spurned her. He had found the notion of having a child, let alone she being that child, completely absurd. But once the memories had unlocked, Robert Hamilton found himself brought to his knees, his daughter's name tearing from his lips in a howl of anguish.

He had woken up…just in time to realize his only child had fallen off a thousand-foot high cliff. Oh what a fool he had been. He just had not realized the price for his foolish arrogance would have been so steep, too steep for his shriveled heart to bear.

_Oh god…what have I done? My baby…oh my little girl, please forgive me for failing you…_But, of course, his child had no more capacity to forgive than he did to undo what had been done.

"Sir, you're awake! Oh, do you need a…tray or bucket…?"

Robert ignored the voice. Gorge was rising in his throat, threatening to spew out without a moment's notice. But he swallowed it down, shaking his head and whispering words of denial over and over.

"I'll go and get something for the nausea," the person assured him.

Once he had the urge to vomit under control, Robert lifted his head up, his hands still clasped over his face. He drew in a lungful of air and raked his hand through his short curls. A few tears welled up in his eyes and slipped down his ruddy cheeks.

With his vision more or less cleared, he saw that he was indeed in the infirmary of the casino. It appeared he was in a private room as well. The staff member who had spoken to him had closed the door behind him when he left. Robert immediately strode over to the door, unmindful of the spinning which resulted when he stood. As he had suspected, the door was locked.

Yes, of course they would lock him in. Once he had seen his daughter fall to her death and reacted, they would have known his memories had been unlocked. He recalled being bodily restrained by Number Ten. But, after that, his memories grew hazy. Mad March must have struck him. It was the likeliest explanation for the large knot on the back of his head. After all, he could have ordered the reanimated assassin to kill them all. It was a shame he had not had the chance.

Robert Hamilton had never considered himself to be a particularly violent man. For all intents and purposes, he had always been a pacifist, one who tried to see peaceful compromises win out over calls to arms. But now the wish to do violence was rising up within him, igniting in his blood. The queen's face drifted before him and his fists clenched with hatred. His daughter's blood was on her hands. The Queen of Hearts had stolen him from his beloved wife and child, had stripped him of even the memory of them. She had ruthlessly forced him to adopt a new identity just so he could work for her. He had created the emotion extraction method, he had developed ways to distill and separate different emotions. That man on the rooftop told him he had been adjusted to work in the laboratory. Well, that strange little fellow had been right, but Robert had done more than just work. He had basically built this woman's economy, her center of power. She had turned him into an equally ruthless, single-minded, heartless monster. How many men and women had been taken from their families like he had been? Hundreds, perhaps thousands. The numbers stretched out ominously over the period of a single decade, opening up a bottomless pit of guilt. So many lives had been destroyed because of him.

Well, not entirely because of him. For it was she, the Queen of Hearts, who had made him into the Carpenter. Ultimately, he had been nothing more than a tool, a means to an end. Well, if he had been a tool, he was a tool no longer. For the man being caged within Carpenter had woken up, and he still held all the same knowledge. What had taken years to create and perfect could be destroyed in a matter of hours, minutes even. And that was exactly what he was going to do. Not only would destroying the equipment used to siphon the emotions from the oysters—his own people—serve to prevent that horrible woman from ruining even more lives, but it would also cater to his need to avenge his child. He would make that bitch pay for taking away the life he knew, thus setting in motion this horrible chain of events.

His heart pounded as he envisioned the destruction of the laboratories. A part of him recoiled from the idea. It truly had been an act of genius, something that could have won him awards, possibly a Nobel, back in his world. He was a scientist, a man committed to the pursuit of knowledge, understanding, and discovery. But he also knew such pursuits could lead down dark paths. He should know, for all he had gotten on this path was misery and death. It had to be ended.

Robert peered through the window out into the infirmary proper. The area was mostly deserted with a few beds being occupied by those Suits his daughter had knocked out of commission. Questions about those strange abilities sprouted up in his mind, though there was little chance they would be answered now. Of course he had been told about her mysterious strength beforehand since he had been commissioned to resurrect Mad March with an added boost to his muscle fibers. But he had scarcely believed it could be true.

Infirmary staff roved the area, but there were only a few. If he could somehow figure out how to open this door, it was probable that he could sneak by them.

As it happened, he would not have to open the door, for the man who had been in the room earlier appeared to be returning with a glass of water and a bottle of pills. Robert moved to the side of the door out of view of the window. Keys scraped in the lock and the door clicked open accompanied by the sound of the infirmary medic humming a nameless tune. He waited till the man stepped inside and closed the door, ostensibly leaving it unlocked. They must not have viewed him as much of a threat.

What a huge mistake.

The unnamed man, dressed in a white lab coat and black slacks, stopped in his tracks at the empty bed. "Uhhh…Carpenter?"

He immediately flew at the man, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle any cries. The glass of water slipped out of the man's grasp, smashing to the floor and flinging shards of glass in every direction.

"It's nothing personal," Robert apologized as he spun the man around and back handed him across the face. Pain lanced through his hand, but it did send the other man's head snapping back.

_Alice made punching people look so easy…_

He slammed the man's head against the metal handrail on the bed, his heart clenching at the man's stifled cries of pain. Mad March had done the same thing to his daughter, only with vastly more force. Robert winced with guilt as the medic's head flopped aside once he flipped the man around. He was not fully unconscious, but he was close enough that there would be no struggles once he buckled the wrist and ankle restraints onto him. He was just glad the one who had been in charge of watching him had been a man. He would never have been able to do this to a woman.

"I'm sorry…but it's the only way," he said remorsefully while he tightened the restraints. "But, I promise you, it'll all be over soon."

He searched the man's pockets and found a set of keys before pulling the white sheets over the supine form. He really hoped he did not give the man brain damage.

Robert poked his head out the door and, once he was reasonably certain the few staff members were temporarily gone, he stepped out and quickly locked it behind him. Hopefully the sheet covered form of a body would buy him some time.

He started making his way to the exit, passing by one of the beds which held a recuperating, sleeping Suit. Footsteps and conversing voices compelled him to dive down next to the bed and slide underneath. The last thing he needed was to set off alarm bells throughout the casino. That would effectively nip his plans of destroying the lab and freeing the oysters in the bud.

He waited, heart beating furiously and breath withheld, as the voices passed and went out the door. When he was sure they were gone, he slid out from under the bed. Before he got up, however, his eye caught sight of the Suit's side holster draped over the chair next to the bed. One of the guns was still snapped inside it.

A quick wary glance at the slumbering Suit and his surroundings, Robert pulled the gun out and shoved it into the waistband of his trousers.

* * *

I want to take this time to make story recommendations because I think this story is brilliant, but, sadly, it's in a category that not many people peruse so it's not getting the attention it deserves. If anyone is a fan of the movie _Drop Dead Fred_, or, if you haven't seen it, I urge you to do that. The stories are crossovers of _Drop Dead Fred_ and Tim Burton's _Alice in Wonderland_. They can both be found in my favorites. The first one (which is complete) is called **The Long Journey Home **and its WIP sequel is called **Memories of You. **Both are written by **WENN9366**. You guys should check it out!

Oh, also, you should review this chapter…


	24. Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend

Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers! You guys keep me going so keep 'em coming!

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**Chapter XXIII: **Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend

The Slayer ran. The trail led out of the city, heading towards the border of the Tulgey Wood. The casino, with its daunting, seemingly precarious height, looked like a needle in the distance. She tried her best to ignore the aches and pains which plagued her battered body. Her injuries slowed her down nonetheless. If she had been at full strength, perhaps she could have caught up with the posse of Suits which had taken Hatter before they reached the casino.

Fear for this man who had quickly become more than just a friend gnawed at her relentlessly. She only hoped the queen would not kill him outright. Thought it felt horrible to think such things, she hoped his position as a double agent would warrant some interrogation. While it meant cruel mental torture, it also meant he would stay alive long enough for her to find him.

Odd, how her priorities had shifted so drastically. When she first arrived in Wonderland, she had thought of nothing but finding Jack. Then, after his treachery had been unveiled, her focus had shifted to her father. But her father was, ironically enough, safer than anyone else. To mention nothing of his amnesia where she and everything about their life back home was concerned, he was apparently an important asset to the queen. He would be fine. It was Hatter who needed her now.

_He better not do anything stupid to get himself killed or I'll…kill him again…_

There was a slate gray stone wall encircling the narrow base of the towering casino. Again Alice marveled at how that thing defied the laws of physics. Such a building would not stand in her world. She at least hoped there was a backdoor entrance which was more terrestrial than the entrance she had used the previous time she had been here. She did not fancy the notion of trying to climb the walls of the fortress seeking a way in. But she would do it, if that was what it would take.

Luckily, scaling the walls did not seem to be necessary. There was a door right at the very bottom of the towering structure. Even better, there were no guards in sight. She thought there would at least have been some men manning the gate, but it just swung open with the prod of a finger.

"Wow, either someone's real full of herself or she's not as smart as I thought she was," Alice commented dryly.

She strode up to the dark gray door. It was reinforced steel, which meant it was very unlikely brute strength—even her own considerable strength—could knock it down. She glanced upwards with a despairing glower before reaching forward and knocking.

Her sharp ears identified the sounds of movement, sounds she would not otherwise have picked up behind that thick door had she not been gifted with enhanced hearing. The door scraped open by the slimmest of cracks. A crack was enough.

Before the Suit on the other side could even string a sentence together, Alice planted her boot on the door and pushed. There was a strangled yelp as the man was thrown backward followed by the crashing sound of the door hitting the wall. The Slayer stood in the doorway, blinking her eyes at the contrast of the darkness of the interior and the brightness from outside.

"What the hell!" blurted another Suit. He rose from his seat at a small table where cards and chips were spread on the surface. It looked as if Alice had interrupted a poker game.

"Oh, sorry, were you winning?" she asked innocently.

The man scowled at her, reaching for his gun. Thinking quickly, Alice flung Hatter's hat at the man. It spun in mid-air and the Suit instinctively ducked, covering his face as if the hat were a deadly projectile. The diversion gave the girl enough time to waltz up to the man and backhand him across the face. He dropped to the floor, down for the count. "Dummy," she muttered, picking up the hat and dusting it off.

The room was small and sparsely furnished. There were a few chairs, a glossy black phone, cabinets lining the walls, and the table where the poker cards and chip still lay as if in waiting for the players to return. She wondered if serving as the ground entrance to the casino was its only purpose. It certainly did not offer much in the way of tools or supplies which could help her move about the casino under the radar. There did not even appear to be a store of weapons, though she suspected if there had been, it would have been the sort of weapons Slayers did not make use of.

_Hurry._ She knew she needed to move fast, but she also knew that she could only move but so fast. Infiltrating the casino with no weapons or backup as well as being injured and weakened was risky enough. She had to tread carefully. Hatter's life was hanging in the balance. Her nerves were strung taut, frayed, and threatening to unravel under the weight of her desperate worry for him. She refused to think it could possibly be too late already. The queen would have to see that he harbored useful information. Of course the idea of him being at the mercy of the Tweedles was terrifying, but the alternative was too horrible to imagine.

_Don't think about that. Thinking about that will only make you lose control. You can't afford that…Hatter can't afford that._

But the fear, the dread, the horrible sinking feeling of doubt which wormed its way into her gut and chipped away at her resolve was powerful. Alice took a deep breath, willing the thoughts of doom out of her mind. She could do this. She merely had to tether those fears, bring them under the control and discipline which she had honed for six years as a Slayer and even longer as a martial arts student.

There was a narrow, spiral stairway at the back of the room, no doubt leading up to the casino. But, before she could take that route, she needed to tie up the loose ends. And by loose ends that meant two Suits, one of whom was not even unconscious.

The first Suit lay in a pile of debris which may have once been wooden shelves. He moaned in pain, lifting his hand to his forehead. Alice stood over him, her hands on her hips, her dark hair sliding forward to obscure her features.

"I'm going to keep this short and sweet," she said sternly, placing one of her booted feet on his chest. The man's breathing hitched. The Slayer part of her practically smelled the fear emanating from him and nearly relished it. "One of my friends has been taken by a bunch of your friends. I don't like this. I want him back."

His eyes rolled in their sockets, swiveling around desperately. But his partner was unconscious and Alice assumed this room was quite isolated from the rest of the casino. There was no one coming to help him.

His eyes flicked over in the direction of the phone. Without even looking, Alice reached out and ripped it off the wall, letting it plummet to the ground.

"Please, I have a family," the man pleaded.

It was difficult not to feel the flare of guilt at the naked fear in his watery gray eyes. Slayers did not kill humans as a general rule. In her tenure as a Slayer based on a hellmouth, there had been a few humans who had stepped over into the jurisdiction of the Slayers by invoking supernatural forces or summoning some kind of a hellion as part of some diabolical plan. But, even then, killing said human or humans had been a last resort. So, no, she would not kill this man.

But he did not have to know that.

"Um, yes, the team sent out to retrieve…you…I guess…returned with two prisoners: the prince and one other man. But I-I just gave them clearance to get through. I don't know what's happening with them now," he informed her. A sheen of sweat glistened on his pale features. The man was young, late twenties or early thirties at the most. If the remark about the family was true, any children he had were probably young.

"How long ago was that?"

The man whimpered. "Um, I don't know. Less than an hour ago." He sounded uncertain, but, in any case, it could not have been that long ago.

She removed her foot and the man let out a choked exhale of relief. Her eyes flitted to the stairs, back to the Suit, and then over to the other Suit with a thoughtful expression. She knew that was the way up to the various levels of the casino. The question was how she would walk through those levels during her search for Hatter without drawing attention to herself. There had to be tons of Suits patrolling the halls. She knew she could take them, even several of them, but it would take up time she would much rather be vested in searching for Hatter. Also, there was Mad March to consider, for he had already trounced her all too easily once when she had been in considerably better shape.

"I have one more question for you." She paused, cocking her head to the side as a thought came to her. "Two, actually."

The man stared at her with a strange, nearly comical mixture of incredulity and trepidation. He propped himself up on his hands, but did not make any movements to rise further.

With her eyes on the winding staircase, she laid out her questions. Her voice was distant as if it with it were jumping along with her thoughts to the unknown future. "One: what weapons do you and your buddy have that I could borrow? Two: do you have any handcuffs?"

* * *

Every few seconds someone would walk by the archway where Alice watched from against the wall, shrouded in shadows. Mostly they were Diamonds, the spangled accents of their dresses winking bright red in the light. The heels of their knee high red boots clicked against the smooth stone floor in a perfect rhythm. Suits also passed by occasionally, their strides longer, but their steps much quieter. A grave, eerie silence pervaded the place. Save for the sounds of footsteps, the corridor was silent in spite of the endless array of human beings traversing it from both directions. Even those who walked in pairs or groups did not chat amongst themselves. No smiles or casual bantering abounded whatsoever. All were quiet and stern-faced, walking with a sense of grim purpose.

Minutes were ticking by, and Alice still had not figured out how she would slip amongst them to search for her companion. If she had any sort of talent for witchcraft, she probably could have performed an invisibility spell or glamour. There were Slayers who practiced the Wiccan arts. But she had no innate ability for magic, and she had no way of knowing if that sort of magic would even work in this world.

_Think, Alice, think…_

Inspiration struck like an arrow and Alice had to cover her mouth to suppress a gasp. The solution was so tragically simple she wondered why it had taken her so long to see it. It might be tricky to pull off, but it would definitely make it easy for her to traipse around the casino virtually unnoticed.

Feeling slightly giddy now that she had a plan in mind, the girl slid closer to the edge of the wall. She would have to move fast if this were to work, as well as hope that these people were as unobservant as most people tended to be. Her preternatural speed was a definite advantage to be exploited.

Her eyes locked on a target and she acted. The Diamond girl walking by did not even have time to let out a shriek as Alice reached out and snatched her out of the corridor. She slapped a hand against the girl's mouth to muffle the scream which boiled up her throat. With the other hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the butterfly knife she had "borrowed" from one of the Suits.

The Diamond's brown eyes grew wide as Alice flipped open the blade. No words were exchanged. None were needed, for the Diamond seemed to get the message. Once it was clear she was understood, Alice took the girl towards the door which led to the ground entrance of the casino. This was the distasteful part of the plan, but it was necessary. As she had done with the Suit down below, she needed to make this girl think she would kill her. She quashed the momentary flurries of guilt and doubt which arose when the Diamond whimpered underneath her palm. The girl was shaking with terror.

Once she had the girl downstairs she pulled her hand away from the girl's mouth and pushed her into one of the chairs. The girl let out a sob of fright and drew her arms protectively around herself. She glanced around at her surroundings, her sobs worsening when she saw the two Suits handcuffed to the pipes; one of them slumped against the wall, unconscious.

"What-what do you want? Please don't kill me," the girl begged. Tears streamed down her face, turning her painted features into a blotchy mess. She appeared to be even younger than that Suit, closer to Alice's own age. She was also close to Alice's size, which was the important thing.

"I won't if you listen to me very carefully and do everything I say," Alice assured her, keeping her voice firm, but reasonable. It would not do to terrorize and intimidate the girl into hysterics.

The young Diamond stared at her, hiccupping in between her sniffling sobs. Then she nodded.

"Take off your clothes," Alice instructed. She flipped the butterfly knife closed and set it down on the table.

Confusion drew a line between the girl's brows. "Wh-what?" Alice saw her gaze flit to the knife for the briefest of instances.

"Take off your clothes," Alice repeated as she shrugged off the velvet jacket. "You can leave on any underclothes. What I want is the dress, the boots, and the hat…thing. Oh, and I saw that, but don't even think about trying to go for the knife or running away. Trust me. I am much, much faster than you."

She pulled down the zipper of her own dress with a warning glare to the Suit who sat watching them, his mouth taped shut. He averted his gaze as the two women exchanged outfits. Alice's raspberry tights were ripped and stained beyond repair so she completely discarded them.

The Diamond had been slightly taller than Alice, which came as no huge surprise. The red boots were a little too large, but they would serve well enough. She tugged them up over her calves and flexed her feet experimentally. The dress fit well enough, if a little bit longer on her than on the Diamond. There were no pockets, however, which forced the girl to rethink where she would hide the butterfly knife. She may have been planning to put on an act as a casino Diamond, but there was no way she would be going up there without a weapon on her. Finally, she opted on shoving the knife into the leg of her right boot, though it chafed up against her skin.

The hard part was trying to shove her thick mass of dark hair underneath that red sparkly dome hat. The Diamond girl had had an array of pins holding her light brown hair under the hat, which she promptly handed over to Alice. There was no time for perfection, so once she had her hair pinned up, if somewhat sloppily, she shoved the hat on her head.

"Okay, how do I look?" Alice spun around, her arms stretched out.

"Um…nice," the Diamond replied hesitantly. She was now wearing Alice's blue dress, the purple velvet jacket, and the purple leather boots. Her golden brown hair was unbound, fluttering past her shoulders in gentle waves. Even with her make-up slightly marred by tears, the girl was quite comely.

She looked traumatized enough as it was, and Alice hated to cause her further distress. She worked for the enemy, but knowing what she knew of the Queen of Hearts, the young Slayer imagined the queen controlled her servants with a glittering iron fist. This Diamond was more or less innocent, bound by fear to do her job of evoking emotions from oysters so they could be collected and bottled up for distribution. She probably had not even been given a choice. No doubt she was terrified that just by being captured and becoming an unwilling accomplice in Alice's plans, she would lose her head.

"I'm sorry to do this to you," Alice prefaced, while grabbing the girl's arm and steering her over to where the Suits sat cuffed to the pipes which protruded from the wall. "But I can't really take the chance that you won't run upstairs and alert the troops." Alas, the Suits had carried only one pair of handcuffs each, so she had to use the tape she had found while perusing through the room to bind the girl's wrists together after threading one hand behind the pipe. She then placed some tape over the girl's mouth, steeling herself against the terror and confusion in her doe brown eyes.

Once she was satisfied the Diamond girl was well and truly restrained alongside the Suits, Alice stood and turned away. She strode over to the staircase, her heart pounding with each step. The first phase of her plan was done, and it had gone better than she could have hoped. She prayed her luck would hold. But it was becoming more strenuous keeping her gut-wrenching doubts and fears for Hatter at bay. She quashed those pessimistic thoughts and feelings, shoving them to the back of her thoughts where they belonged for the time being.

She had climbed about halfway up the spiral stairs before she remembered something very important. "Oh, shit, whoops." Slapping her forehead, Alice sighed and turned around, quickly running down the stairs and over to the Diamond, who sat huddled on the floor by the wall. Her face paled at Alice's encroaching form. The girl tried to scream, though what came out was a thin, stifled wail. Alice reached into the pocket of the velvet jacket and pulled out the Stone of Wonderland. Though it was probably dangerous to bring the ring up into territory where she was risking capture and/or death, the girl found she did not feel comfortable leaving it behind.

"Almost forgot this," she muttered as she looked down at her dress, the lack of pockets once again proving to be a problem. She ended up pulling the neckline of the dress out and dropping the ring in, allowing it to nestle uncomfortably between her breasts.

The Diamond and the Suit stared at her, completely stunned and silent. Whether or not they recognized the ring as the Stone of Wonderland was a mystery. Alice just shrugged at them before turning around and heading back to the stairs.

* * *

Hehe...so...what do you think?

Happy Halloween!


	25. Turning the Tables

Sorry this took so long. I have been dealing with more laptop issues and also this chapter was really hard for me, for some odd reason. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers!

* * *

**Chapter XXIV: **Turning the Tables

They had him lashed to a chair with ropes drawn so tight they ran dangerously close to cutting off circulation. Blood trickled down the side of his face where he had been struck, an unexpected physical act from the Tweedles who had built their reputation upon prying into a person's mind without ever having to use touch. He did not mind the physical pain so much. It brought him a measure of focus, ironically enough. He would much rather dwell on the physical hurts of his body rather than the raging sea of agony his heart swam in.

But the Tweedles were perceptive. They sniffed out his grief like a pair of bloodhounds, and that was the weapon they chose to wield against him.

"Brother dear, do enlighten, what sort of sound does a human body make when it falls over a thousand feet?" one of the twins sneered, a cruel smile etched on his pallid features.

Hatter stiffened in his bonds, drawing in a harsh breath.

"A splat, a crack, a splish, a splash," the other responded in a sing-song voice. They danced around Hatter, their malevolent cackling weaving around him in their wake.

"Just like Humpty Dumpty…although that oyster was certainly not so humpty, was she, boy?" a Tweedle, Dee or Dum, prodded.

"Hmm, yes, such a pretty little oyster," the other (or the same one) mused.

They continued to dance a circle around him, their remarks blending into one horrible litany.

"A pearl."

"Fierce."

"Dead."

"In pieces, no doubt."

"Fell off a wall."

"Had a great fall."

"And all the king's horses and all the king's men…"

"Can't put that little oyster back together again!"

The grief he felt over losing Alice was still so fresh, like a living thing. These taunts of the Tweedles slipped through his shoddy defenses and stirred it up. Tears welled up, spilling on his cheeks. His control deteriorated.

"Shut up!" he screamed hoarsely.

This seemed to only provoke more mad laughter from the doctors. They took extreme pleasure in poking at his emotional wounds. How this was to accomplish garnering information from him, he was not certain. Perhaps it was meant to break him down, drown in him misery until he no longer cared about the fate of the Resistance. The joke was on them. One could not break something which has already been broken. And, on a more maudlin note, selling out when he had professed just the day before to have thrown his lot in with the Resistance seemed like a betrayal of Alice. It would certainly make her death meaningless.

_No…_that _could never be meaningless. _

"Oh, but wait, perhaps all the king's horses and all the king's men _can_ put the little oyster back together again…" The speaker leaned down as he spoke, lowering his voice to a mocking hiss. Hatter felt the sensation of ice trickling down his spine. His heart skipped a few beats as he realized the implication behind those words.

Death was not always permanent in Wonderland. There were times when the queen found someone too amusing or too useful to allow a silly thing like dying get in the way. Mad March had been her favorite and most successful assassin, though he had always walked a fine line between being an asset and being a liability. March did not kill people simply for the money or to please the queen; he had reveled in true pleasure over taking lives. The queen had not minded his homicidal mania. Indeed, she very nearly had reveled in it herself. So long as his violent tendencies were directed to those the queen considered undesirable (which was a lengthy list, so March had his picks), the man had basically been free to kill whomever he pleased whenever he pleased. Until he had lost his head, thanks in no small part to Hatter. It had not been him who had done the deed, but he had set it up and led March into the trap. They had all thought that was the end of the deadly assassin, but lo and behold, the queen had decided otherwise.

For just a moment, he envisioned having Alice back and his heart leapt. To see her once more, to hold her, to touch her, to tell her…Hatter swallowed as fresh tears welled up in his eyes.

One of the Tweedles spoke up, mirroring Hatter's thoughts. "You could have her back." His rancid breath wafted into the young man's nose.

"All you would have to do is just tell us some stories," the other brother said unctuously.

"We do love stories," the first one piped up.

"Especially those featuring books…libraries…_great_ libraries."

He inhaled sharply at the intentionally unsubtle mention of the Resistance's hidden stronghold. Of course that was the golden nugget of knowledge they needed. If they found that center of power and destroyed it, the Resistance would never recover. All Hatter had to do was say some magic words. He could practically see how things would fall out as if it were etched in a script. Dodo, Duck, Owl, Dormie, all those refugees, they would all meet with horrible, painful ends. The rest of the Resistance members, scattered throughout Wonderland, would have no choice but to retreat once their identities would be betrayed. Dodo, for all his gruff and grizzled appearance, did not have the stomach for torture. He would sing like a canary if it meant avoiding torture.

"Hatter."

He froze, the breath literally stilling in his lungs at the sound of that voice. It was Alice's voice.

He knew it was not real. There was no possible way it could be real. The Tweedles had gotten inside his head, honed in on his weaknesses and fears so they could chip away at his flimsy resolve. This was nothing but a projection of her from his memory. And, yet, after feeling so torn up by grief and longing, it was indescribably wonderful to hear her voice.

She was kneeling right in front of him, still wearing that blue dress and those raspberry tights. Her dark hair shined gloriously, falling over her shoulders in soft waves. His throat nearly closed in on itself, tangling up his vocal cords, when he looked up at her.

"You're not real," he finally managed to choke out, the words themselves like daggers to his heart. He closed his eyes, feeling the tears slip underneath the lids and down his cheeks.

"I know," the shade of Alice murmured gently. "But I could be real."

He let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

"I could be alive again. And then you and I could have a chance, Hatter. All you have to do is tell them where the Great Library is." The imposter wearing his beloved Alice's face reached out to caress the side of his face. By the Cheshire, the thing even smelled like her. He was nearly undone by that soft touch.

"I miss you, Hatter. Please, it's so cold…I want to be warm again," the Alice-who-was-not-Alice pleaded, her beautiful blue eyes filling with tears. She looked so lost, so afraid, and it made his heart hurt. If his hands had not been tied up behind the chair, he would have lost control and flung his arms around her.

For the moment, he allowed his grief-ravaged mind to indulge in the prospect of having Alice back. But, the reality was, even if she was resurrected as Mad March had been, there was no guarantee she would be as she was. In fact, it was well nigh certain what came back would be irrevocably changed from everything Alice was. Aside from the fact that Mad March had a ceramic rabbit-shaped head in place of his former human head, what had been brought back was even more monstrous than before. Besides, even assuming Alice came back completely normal, she would never forgive Hatter for striking such a bargain.

Of course, there was also always the strong possibility that the Tweedles were completely bluffing.

"Please," the Alice imposter implored softly. She leaned forward, bringing her face so close to his their noses touched. "Just tell them where it is so we can be together…forever." Then, without hesitation, the shade pressed her lips to his and they gave willingly.

Immediately, Hatter was bombarded by a sensation of wrongness. He remembered the sweet taste of Alice's lips, so warm and velvety soft. These lips were cold and unfamiliar, and it served to snap the young man out of the thrall.

He wrenched himself away from the shade with a vehement, "No!" The thing drew back, a hurt look crossing over its stolen features. The sight of it infuriated him. "You obviously don't know her. Alice would never sacrifice the lives of innocent people for her own life. She's—" he stammered, catching himself, "_was_ too good for that. So you may as well sod the fuck off because I'm not telling you a thing."

The imposter let out a deep, resigned sigh, shaking its head before flickering out of sight.

"Oh, ho hum, it was worth a try," spoke the oily voice of a Tweedle.

They both stood in front of him now, their hands clasped together over their rotund figures. The brothers sported wide, maniacal grins, matching the malicious gleams in their beady eyes.

"I suppose we'll just have to resort to _other_ means of persuasion…" one brother noted with anticipation.

"Ooh," the other replied gleefully. "I love these games."

* * *

Luck had been on his side so far. No one had tried to stop Robert as he moved through the halls, sidestepping casino staff and keeping his gaze downcast. Though his status in the casino was undeniably high, the man had rarely spent time outside his laboratory or his small apartment. He had isolated himself from most of the other casino workers. Psychologically speaking, such actions would normally be deemed unhealthy. But combining that with the fact that there was an obscenely high turnover rate for many of the other casino positions, it made it unlikely he would be recognized immediately.

Initially he had wanted to head for his lab. But as he had been walking, he contemplated the notion of bringing down the queen on his own. He had influence over his own laboratory staff, but not enough influence that they would risk losing their heads to the queen's ever blood drenched chopping block. As loathe as he was to admit it, he probably could use an ally.

And he knew just where to find one.

He felt the gun stuck in the waistband of his trousers with every step. Its weight felt strange, foreign. He had never used a real gun before; in fact, he had hated guns. He did not know how he would fare trying to use one. Hopefully, he could go through with his plan without actually using it, but having it on him did make him feel more secure.

Thinking of the gun made him wonder if Alice, who had demonstrated extremely advanced skills in combat in just the short time he had seen her, was trained in the use of one. He shuddered to think of his little girl as some kind of a soldier. He had never pictured nor wanted such a thing for his Jellybean, but, then, she had been a child of ten when he had last seen her. It was impossible for her to remain as she was.

The raw sense of grief and loss clenched at his heart, but Robert forced himself not to think on it. After he was finished avenging her (provided he lived, of course) he would allow himself to grieve. At the very least, he would have to try to bring word of it back to Alice's mother, his dear Carol.

Robert quickened his pace when he saw a group of agitated Suits thundering down the hallway. He avoided them by skirting down a side hallway, his hand reaching towards the outline of the gun beneath his shirt. The men were muttering amongst themselves as they passed, random words floating out to the scientist who had flattened himself against the wall.

"Attack."

"Surrounded."

"Defend."

Robert's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of that gargle of syllables. The most he could guess was that the casino was under attack. The Resistance, maybe? That was extremely unlikely, however. The Resistance probably wanted to recoup after losing its risky gambit in attempting to wake him up. Although in the end their ploy had succeeded in waking him up, just not as soon as they would have wished.

He did not have time to concern himself with who may or may not be attacking the casino at the moment, however. Once he was certain the men were gone and there were no more following, he stepped out to continue his path. An attack on the casino could actually work in his favor, for it would draw out the majority of the combat-trained Suits to defend the perimeter of the fortress. Indeed, the man encountered no more Suits, or much of anyone, as he came to the large gray reception desk.

Passing by it with a held breath, Robert waited for the Diamond girl on duty to call out to him. He had toyed with the notion of outright asking her if the Truth Room was occupied as he suspected, but then decided it was best for him to keep his face out of other people's notice as much as possible.

He hoped the ally he sought was in the Truth Room. If he had been killed already, Robert's list of allies would have just been wiped clean. He had no idea which of his assistants or fellow scientists was in league with the Resistance, although he presumed there were more than just the two who had abducted him and brought him to the Hospital of Dreams. Besides, none of them would have the motivation he was looking for to destroy the queen's power base, and possibly destroying the queen herself. But he had seen the way that young man had tried to save his daughter. The crazy boy must have known he would have gotten himself captured by charging in so recklessly. He had been willing to sacrifice himself for Alice's freedom, for her life. And when his little Jellybean had fallen, the boy's grief and shock had been palpable.

There was another, deeper purpose to this grieving father seeking out the man his daughter had called Hatter. Robert hungered for the answers to the questions swirling around his daughter. How had she come to be here in Wonderland? How did she know how to fight so well? How had that boy come to know her; to care for her so deeply? Had he loved her? Had she loved him?

Though Robert had never been to the Truth Room, he knew its entrance as if he had passed by it hundreds of times. A single red door with no accents, plaques, or adornments, appearing to be perfectly ordinary and not at all forthcoming about the horrors it housed behind it. He reached for the handle, feeling his heart surge in his chest nervously. There was no telling what state of mind the boy would be in after being in the hands of the odious Tweedle twins. But Robert had made it all the way here, avoiding notice and capture. It was far too late to turn back.

He turned the knob and gently pushed on the door. Immediately, voices hit him. Mostly it was high-pitched laughter, what people referred to as cackling. Interspersed between those laughs were painful groans. The character of the groans told Robert that whoever was making them was gritting his teeth, trying his best not to scream. As the scientist ventured further into Truth Room, he came upon the scene.

The fat, bald twin menaces dressed in gray jumpsuits were circling a young man roped down to a chair. They both were taking turns jabbing the poor fellow in the ribs with what looked like electric cattle prods. Each jolt of electricity caused the boy to stiffen and ground out a muffled cry of pain.

No one seemed to notice Robert had joined the scene at all. He hastily reached down and pulled the gun out his trousers, willing himself to appear as if he had handled a gun his entire life.

"Clockwork's not ticking properly…must be crumbs in the butter," the tortured young man mumbled, his voice strained from the pain of all those jolts and jabs.

One of the Tweedles drew his electric prod back, preparing to stab at the boy again.

"Stop!" Robert commanded, holding the gun before him, his hand mercifully steady.

Three sets of eyes fell upon him. Two identical sets bearing a mixture of shock, dismay, and intrigue. The other set displaying an equal amount of shock coupled with confusion and a strange undertone of guilt.

"How interesting," one of the doctors commented.

"Yes," his brother agreed. The pudgy cheeks twitched.

"Carpenter wants to play, too?" The doctor lowered the cattle prod and started moving towards Robert.

"Stay right there and shut up," Robert ordered, lifting the weapon higher. He had heard too many tales of their exploits to trust either of the brothers. Their voices sounded like oil and poison mixed together. He knew what power they wielded, and he planned on never giving them a chance to use it.

Hatter had not spoken a single word. He was watching Robert intently, clearly confused about his presence. No doubt the boy was wondering why he, Alice's father, was here in the Truth Room. Those dark brown eyes flitted to the gun for the barest of seconds. Robert wondered if the boy thought he meant to kill him.

"Release him," Robert told the brothers.

Hatter jerked back in his chair, jaw falling open in open astonishment. The Tweedle brothers were also quite surprised to hear this command, exchanging confused glances before turning their pasty-faced glares onto Robert.

"Oh, but that is quite not possible—"

Robert cut him off. "I thought I told you to shut up. Untying him does not require talking."

"I don't think Dear Carpenter would use such a nasty little weapon," the Tweedle on the left remarked tauntingly.

At the sound of that horrid name which the queen had forced him to masquerade around while committing atrocities, Robert lost sight of his patience. Truthfully, he had thought the safety would have been on. When he squeezed the trigger, he was more surprised than anyone when the crack of the bullet sliding through the tube at terrible speed sliced through the air. The small projectile hit the left twin right in the neck. Hatter and the remaining twin were treated to a brief splatter of blood before the wounded man crumpled to the floor with a gurgling moan.

Stunned by what he had just done, Robert seized the moment to whirl the gun around on the other twin. He had no time to second guess his unintended action or to dwell on the inevitable guilt over taking a human life which would arise. Besides, it was not as if the world was exactly bereft with less Tweedle.

The second twin wasted no time in obeying Robert's order. He dropped his electric prod and crouched behind Hatter's chair. Once the ropes were loosened enough, the boy shook them off and jumped to his feet, shaking out his arms and legs to re-invite the cut off circulation. Then his eyes met Robert's. It was like looking into a mirror, seeing those eyes with a depth of grief, remorse, and anger to rival his own turmoil. Both men nodded at each other, as if to acknowledge the morbid emotional kinship they shared.

Robert broke off the eye contact, his gaze traveling behind Hatter to the mad doctor, who had retrieved his electric cattle prod, lifted and preparing to swing down on the younger man's head.

"Look out!" Robert shouted in warning.

Hatter spun in a show of remarkable dexterity after enduring such physical torture. His left arm shot out to block the strike, cutting the Tweedle's stroke short in mid-air, and swiping it aside before delivering a straight shot punch to the face with his right arm. The force of the blow could be felt from where Robert stood, and he watched as the pudgy man's neck snapped back much farther than was healthy for a human neck. Vertebrae snapped and within a few seconds, this Tweedle had hit the floor to join his brother.

Hatter stood, staring at the body in silence for a few moments until he muttered, "_That_ was for Alice, you fucking wanker."

Oh, yes, Robert then remembered his daughter had had a visit with the Tweedles. The thought of what those perverted sadists had put his child through lessened the self-disgust he felt over killing one of them.

"So are you here to kill me, too?"

It was not just the question which caught Robert off guard. The way the boy had asked it, as if he was half-hoping it may be true, was what truly had captured his notice. The older man shook his head at the younger, his eyes softening with sympathy. "You tried to save her," he said matter-of-factly.

"I failed," Hatter replied, his voice hitching. He swallowed and glanced down at the floor. "She'd be alive now if it weren't for me."

Robert inclined his head. "Maybe, but have you considered what would have happened to her here? The queen would have had her killed or...drained."

Hatter did not reply to that remark, but Robert could see the way his entire frame shook with the weight of his feelings. This boy was a born and bred Wonderland native. Ten years of working with oysters and Wonderlanders had taught the man how to recognize the differences. And, yet, this boy was feeling just as freely and genuinely as if he were from his own world.

_He loved her…_

"If I were going to kill you, my boy, I would have done it already. And besides, if anyone here is responsible for what happened to Alice…it's me." He saw his daughter's face when she had realized her own father did not recognize her and had scornfully thrown her desperate entreaties back in her face. "I didn't even recognize her when I first saw her. I should have known…what kind of a father doesn't recognize his own child? I didn't know who she was until…"

Hatter nodded in understanding, silently telling Robert he did not need to explain what the trigger to his awakening had been.

Clearing his throat, Robert continued. "Perhaps if I had known her for who she was, none of it would have happened…But we can't change what happened. We can't undo the past," he paused as thoughts of his particularly sordid past assaulted his mind, "no matter how much we may want to."

"So, if you're not here to kill me, then what do you want with me?" Hatter asked him succinctly.

Robert sighed, his gaze wandering down to where the corpses of the Tweedle twins lay on the floor of the Truth Room, a pool of blood having formed beneath the one he had shot. Drops of blood were splattered all over the dynamic black and white circles. "My daughter died trying to save you, Mr. Hatter, so I gather you must have been important to her. But, also, I want you to help me."

Hatter's brows knit together in puzzlement. "Help you do what?"

The older man's gaze remained fixed to the dead Tweedles, his voice growing hard as steel. "To put an end to all this madness."

* * *

Ha, bet you all thought Alice was gonna save her honey? Daddy beat her to the punch.

Please review…I know it took me a while to get this out, but I really do thrive on feedback. So, don't hold back!


	26. March Madness

I think you'll agree this one was well worth the wait. I had to devote a lot of time to studying for the MCAT (which, for those who don't know, is the test to get into medical school), but I resolved to get this out before the New Year and I somehow managed it! Thanks to my patient readers and reviewers. I love you guys!

**Chapter XXV: **March Madness

_To put an end to all this madness._

The man did not resemble his daughter very much in a physical sense, but when Mr. Hamilton spoke those words, Hatter saw where Alice's boneheaded sense of determination must have come from. He had escaped from wherever it was he was being held after suffering a concussion, commandeered a Suit's firearm, and had shot and killed one of the Tweedles. Those kinds of acts took a lot of courage and a slight lack of self-preservation Hatter was all too familiar with.

"You really are her father," Hatter muttered, shaking his head, smiling sadly.

Mr. Hamilton acknowledged the remark with a nod of his head while swallowing heavily. "I suppose that's good, considering I haven't been in her life since she was ten."

Hatter felt the uprising of grief from the man enmesh with his own. The sadness this man felt over the loss of his daughter was no more or less deep than the sorrow which engulfed Hatter himself. There was a different taste to this grief, something probably only a Wonderland native could sense. This man had lost a child, his only child. A child he had not seen nor remembered for over ten years. Feeling like he should say something to comfort the older man, Hatter slowly approached him. He reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder and said, "You'd have been proud of her." He did not know if that remark would make the man feel better or worse. But he could think of nothing else to say. What did one say in circumstances like these?

Mr. Hamilton's eyes filled with tears making Hatter think he had only made matters worse. But the man nodded his head again, blinking away the wetness. "I am." As if an effort to flee the sorrowful subject of his lost child, he glanced over at the deceased Tweedle brothers, cringing slightly. "I never knew I was capable of taking a human life…and yet…I don't really feel all that remorseful."

"Probably because the Tweedles are—_were_ barely passable as human," Hatter quipped dryly.

Mr. Hamilton sighed and dropped his gaze to the gun in his hand. "About Alice…or, rather…ehm…maybe it's the head injury, but, did she really throw a full grown man up into the air?"

_Oh, right, this bloke hasn't been around in over ten years and she never even told her mum about her job. 'Spose a little slip of a thing like her tossing grown men around like ragdolls would raise an eyebrow. _

Hatter rubbed at his neck, torn over telling the man the truth but somehow feeling it would be wrong of him to betray what had been a well-kept secret of Alice's. He did not even feel fully qualified to try to explain it, considering he was still not very clear on certain parts of her story. "Ehm, it's kind of a long story," he said uncertainly. Looking towards the door lying slightly ajar, the younger man shook his head. This was neither the time nor the place for such discussions and it hit far too close to Hatter's grieving heart to speak of such things. "We probably should get out of here if you really do want to end all this."

The older man glanced behind him. "Of course," he said, turning back to Hatter with a strange, indefinable gleam to his hazel eyes.

Lying unspoken between them was the possibility that there would not be an opportunity for such a talk later. One or both of them might be dead before the day was done. Such a prospect would have terrified Hatter once before. Now he looked upon the prospect of death almost with a sense of relief. He just wanted all of this to be over, one way or another.

He followed Mr. Hamilton towards the door, his mind wandering ahead to how two men might succeed in bringing down a monarchy which had held Wonderland in its sparkling red grip for 150 years. The Cheshire had set the task upon Alice, and it had led to her death, just as all those hideous legends about the creature had warned. But her death had woken up her father, who had essentially served as the queen's right hand man in building the foundation which kept this kingdom afloat. It was a horrible price to pay to see justice finally take the reins.

The door to the Truth Room creaked open cautiously as Mr. Hamilton prodded it with the tip of his index finger. At first, it seemed like the corridor was clear of all human life. But someone had been standing outside the corridor waiting for them.

Before Hatter could even register the presence of his old foe, Mad March's hand shot out to wrap around Alice's father's neck. Sounds that were almost words bubbled up the scientist's throat, but Mad March's grip rendered them little more than strangled gasps.

"Let him go!" Hatter demanded, flexing his right hand. But Mad March was well aware of the strength stored up in that right limb.

If the smooth ceramic face of that creature could grin, it surely would have. Mad March took a few steps back, dragging Mr. Hamilton, who was uselessly pawing at the hand clenching his throat and gagging, with him. "It doesn't take that much pressure to crush the human windpipe," the assassin said in a cool, matter-of-fact voice as if he were a lecturer in a schoolroom.

"_Give me one good reason why I shouldn't crush your fucking windpipe!"_ Alice's furious words to Dodo, spoken only two days ago, returned to him along with the reminder that Mad March had been imbued with super-strength upon his revival.

"Come on, March, you know it's me you want," Hatter reminded him, holding his hands up in a placating manner. He would not let Alice's father die, especially not at the hands of this poor excuse for humanity.

March's neck made mechanical clicking noises as he cocked his head to the side. "I was gonna drop in on the little party you were havin' with the Tweedles. I didn't figure you would crack. But I see Carpenter here beat me to the punch. Meddlesome old fuck."

Mr. Hamilton, his face a curious purple shade probably stemming from his fury at being called by that title and the oxygen deprivation caused by March's hand compressing his windpipe, valiantly thrust his elbow back into his captor's ribcage. March did not even flinch.

Hatter felt his own fury begin to mount. He needed to redirect March's attention to himself not just for the sake of Mr. Hamilton. Alice's mother deserved to know what had happened to her daughter. "March, I'm the one who led you into that trap, remember? I'm the reason you got your pretty boy head cut off. Poetic, isn't it? The queen's favored assassin, who took off the heads of so many innocent people."

"Shut up, Hatter. I'm over that. Sportin' a shiny, brand new noggin now thanks to this schmuck."

Hatter could sense he had touched a nerve. It was not easy to discern since March's voice had been distorted and irrevocably altered by the machinery installed in his ceramic head. But his acute observational skills rarely led him astray. Besides, why else would the guy have harassed Alice about him? Thus encouraged, he decided to throw down his trump card. "Don't you want to know where your real head is?" he asked mildly.

Mad March did not reply, but he did stiffen. Mr. Hamilton let out a garbled groan of pain as the hand round his neck tightened.

"It's probably nothing more than bone by now. You see, we thought displaying it for all to see would have been too much like giving you some glory. So I decided we should put your head where it really belonged…" Hoping that invoking the fury of the assassin would not result in Mr. Hamilton's throat being crushed, Hatter put on his most malicious, mad grin. "We threw it into the fucking sewers like the piece of shit that you are."

That appeared to do the trick beautifully. Mr. Hamilton was roughly shoved against the wall, leaving a clear path for Mad March to charge at Hatter.

* * *

Remembering the way to the Truth Room turned out to be easier said than done. Alice had always prided herself on being able to file such keen details away. The last time she had been paraded through the casino corridors she had tried to mentally mark landmarks. But now everything looked identical. Any corridor looked as if it could be the one leading to the Truth Room where she had narrowly escaped completely losing her sanity.

Asking for directions was too risky, unfortunately. A casino Diamond would likely already know where the Truth Room was and appearing not to know might arouse suspicion. Enough suspicion to notice the small cut on her cheek where Mad March's knife had cut, to notice that her walk was slightly different than that of a true Diamond, to notice that her face was distinctly lacking the in the makeup department. The makeup she had donned for that long ago date night with Jack had since been eroded and washed off.

Every step sent bolts of pain radiating from her cracked back ribs up her spine to mingle with the fierce headache caused by the hit to her head. But Alice had endured pain far more intense than this as well as injuries far more severe while forcing herself to keep fighting. It was part of being a Slayer, learning to work through pain and exhaustion when necessary. At least the dizziness and nausea had taken a vacation.

As she walked, she was careful not to meet anyone's gaze directly. At the same time, her eyes were frantically scanning the surroundings, desperately seeking out anything which might point her towards the Truth Room.

_Please, please, please…Hang on, Hatter, please. I'm coming…_

Then, like a beacon at sea had been lit, she found the sign she had been looking for. It was the gray desk. She remembered the jaded, bored receptionist sliding forward the pink sheet of paper which documented Alice's transfer into the hands of the Tweedles. Later, that same receptionist had been startled out of her seat when Alice, Charlie, and Hatter had been fleeing the casino. None other than pure instinct told her it was _the_ gray desk and not just any other gray desk which may have inhabited the fortress. Her heart beat with renewed vigor as hope surged through her.

There was no receptionist sitting there now. In fact, Alice had begun to notice the number of people in the corridors, especially the Suits, had dwindled quite a bit. She knew that her feeble luck could not account for such a fortunate turn of events. Something else had to be going on to draw away the Suits.

The girl stopped, her peripheral vision catching on to something outside on the perimeter of the casino. Drawing closer to the window, her jaw dropped in pure astonishment when she saw what surrounded the fortress. There were hundreds of figures standing in a line, most likely forming a ring around the area. With her sharp eyes, she could see the white paint of the armor.

_Holy crap…they're white knights! Charlie raised an army…but…wait…they're all supposed to be dead, so how…?_

Studying them closer, Alice let out a gasp, partly amused and partly disturbed when she realized what those "warriors" really were. Those white knights were not live human warriors returned from the dead to redress the grievous wrongs that had been done to them and their kingdom. There were all corpses whittled down to little more than skeletons which appeared to be propped up, forming the illusion of a standing army fully surrounding the casino. That meant Charlie must have dug up all those graves and transported all those bodies here in full armor.

"Way to go, Charlie," Alice murmured appreciatively. There was no question some kind of magic had to have been worked in this instance. There was no way one man could dig up hundreds of decaying bodies and transport them all the way from their gravesites at the Kingdom of the Knights to the Happy Hearts Casino in such a short amount of time. Either way, it was still very impressive.

She withdrew from the windows, intent to continue her search. The not-so-little stunt Charlie had pulled had already proved helpful in distracting the bulk of the casino's fighting force. It made Alice start to believe that maybe taking down this psychotic queen would not be so impossible after all.

_After I find Hatter._ Bringing down the monarchy could wait until she made sure her companion was safe.

Alice's heart thudded in panic when she saw that the corridor she was traversing came to a dead end. The girl skidded to a stop and eyed the various doors lining the hallway. Which one of those doors led to the corridor where the Truth Room was located?

"Fuck," she cursed in frustration.

Before she started randomly opening doors to see where they led to, her sharp ears picked up on the faint sounds of voices. She could not attach identities to the voices, muffled and indistinct as they were, but she could detect the threads of anger and hatred. Then there was a much louder thumping noise. All the sounds were coming from behind a set of double doors on the left side of the hallway about two doors down from where Alice was standing.

She ran for the doors. The butterfly knife wedged in between her calf and red boot pressed into her flesh, but she ignored the discomfort. She yanked open the doors, nearly tearing one right off its hinges with her panicked strength. The scene unveiled behind the door nearly stole the breath from her lungs.

Hatter was sprawled on the floor, held down by the hand of Mad March who straddled the young man. The assassin was poised over top of him, wielding the same knife he had used on Alice. She did not even see her father stumbling towards the two men, his hand rubbing at his neck. She did not see anything but March raising his hand, the knife flashing silver just like those curved silver knives of the Bringers had done. Lethal silver which would soon spill the blood of a man she had come to feel more for than anything else in her life.

She flew down the corridor as if propelled by an invisible force, all thought and reason gone from her mind. Shooting out an arm, she blocked the downward strike which would have sent the blade deep into Hatter's chest. She then grabbed the assassin by his mechanical neck and shoved him backwards away from her friend.

_Don't stop now! Attack while you have the advantage! _The element of surprise was hers. Her fall from the cliff edge had probably made everyone assume she was dead. Couple that with the fact that she was wearing the outfit of a casino Diamond, it was safe to say she had caught this freak of an assassin off his guard.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mad March fumed. She wondered if he seriously thought she really was a casino Diamond.

Alice answered that with a powerful roundhouse kick to that loathed ceramic head, earning a very satisfying crack. Following up on the roundhouse kick were a series of rapid punches, jabs, and kicks. Her injuries cried out in protest of the physical exertion, but Alice would not afford to let Mad March have enough time to recover from a blow. She could not even take the time to be sure Hatter was all right. Mad March was a threat which needed to be eliminated immediately.

"I'm now starting to see why Anya hated rabbits so much," she muttered, heedless of the fact that no one in the corridor would understand the reference.

Her upper hand did not last for long, however. The weaknesses dealt to her body by her earlier injuries gave March an opening to block one of her punches and return it with one of his own, knocking the girl off her feet. The sparkling hat slipped off her head, allowing her dark locks to tumble free.

"Alice?" Hatter cried out in disbelief from behind her.

Mad March cackled in apparent amusement. "Well, ain't this interesting? And here we all thought you were nothing but a mushy, scattered pile of body parts at the bottom of the city. What'd you do, sprout wings?" As he spoke he lifted up his leg to prepare to stomp down on her, but Alice rolled out of the way, pulling the butterfly knife out of her boot in the meantime.

"Nope," she replied. With one swift motion, she thrust the knife into March's exposed abdomen. "I just hate you _that_ much."

Dark, viscous fluid oozed from the around the knife blade, spilling onto her hands like a coat of maple syrup. Alice immediately noticed something was amiss. The blood pouring out of the wound looked more like the blood from a dead person than a living, breathing person.

_Oh shit…how did I not see this?_

As soon as she pulled the knife out, she felt arms envelop her from behind and pull her away from Mad March. It was Hatter, apparently shaken out of his temporary state of absolute shock. He drew her to him, but she could not tear her eyes away from the scene before her. March just stood there, his hand dropping down to the gaping wound in his stomach to lightly prod at it. He drew his hand away from it, dripping with the dark, thick blood and brought it to his face to stare at it with his unseeing eyes.

"Uh, Hatter," Alice said nervously, "why isn't he dying?"

"Because he's already dead," Hatter replied, his hand clamping down on her shoulders in a vice like grip.

_Fuck my life._ The girl groaned. "Well, I guess that explains a lot."

"The head," came a raspy, pained voice. Alice's eyes widened when she saw her father stagger up beside them. His voice was ravaged, nothing compared to the stern authority and denial she had heard from earlier.

_When in doubt, aim for the head._ It was one of the many unofficial mottoes of the Slayers. But the problem was she had tried that already and had only succeeding in making a crack in the ceramic material.

"You bitch," Mad March hissed. "That fucking _hurt_!" In a blundering rage, the assassin charged at them. Alice felt herself thrust out of the murderous path, stumbling to the floor. She watched, stunned into stillness, as Hatter drew back his right fist and then slammed it into Mad March's head. The assassin's body jerked up, his legs flipping up into the air before crashing to the ground. As for his head, there was nothing left of it save for sizzling wires, some ceramic shards, and bits of hardware. The rest of it was scattered all over the floor. Hatter had demolished Mad March's head completely.

Alice stared at the assassin now rendered twice headless in complete incredulity. She now saw why that old woman down in the Great Library had been so wary of Hatter's right hand. "Holy Jesus mother…_that's_ the Sledgehammer?"

Hatter did not answer her, but merely shook out his hand, his eyes trained upon the prone form of Mad March. He appeared, for all intents and purposes, to have disappeared into his own world.

"Hatter?" Alice said in concern. She gingerly rose to her feet, all her aches and pains returning in full force as the adrenaline running through her system started to tone down. "Are you okay?"

When she reached out to touch his shoulder, the young man flinched, prompting her to snatch her hand back in fear her companion had been sent over the edge. But when he turned to look upon her, she felt her heart rock against her ribcage and her head spin when she saw the turbulence in his expression. There were no words to describe what she saw in his eyes and yet she understood completely what it was, for it was something which reflected her own feelings.

Now that the distraction of Mad March had been averted, he appeared to have trouble forming words to speak to her. "You…" he began, his voice weak and threaded with so many emotions, "you…I thought…you're…alive?" He swallowed heavily, his entire body shaking slightly.

Though that mangled sentence made little grammatical sense, Alice understood the gist of what he was attempting to say. He had seen her fall from the drop-off. Had she been in his position, she would have assumed the worst, too. He had believed her to be dead, just as she had once thought him dead by Dodo's hand. She recalled how she had felt then, when she had only known Hatter for little more than an hour.

_Oh god, it must have been torture for him. _

"I'm so sorry, Hatter," she said softly. "But I'm okay, see?" She held open her arms. "I didn't fall the whole way. Got caught on a tree branch, which I think broke a few more ribs, but I guess it's better than been splattered on the ground."

He let out a sound somewhere between a snort of laughter and a sigh of bone-deep relief and then threw his arms around her into a near painfully tight embrace. Their lips met with furious desperation, seeking confirmation that the other was truly alive and well. Through that kiss, Alice felt all the anguish, pain, and desolation he had felt when he had thought her to be gone forever. She reciprocated with the terror she had felt over finding he had been taken to the casino as a prisoner and not knowing if she would find him in time. When they finally ended the kiss, resting their foreheads against each other's, Alice realized she was weeping. Salty tears of pure joy wet her cheeks. Hatter was not without his own share of joyful tears.

"I thought I'd lost you," he finally murmured, his hoarse voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought I'd never find _you_," she returned, her voice equally hoarse. "I thought I'd be too late." _And I almost was,_ she thought to herself, thinking back on how close Mad March had come to stabbing Hatter in the chest.

He reached up to tenderly brush errant strands of hair away from her face and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. Alice leaned into the embrace, resting her head just underneath his chin and sighing in contentment.

"Oh, this feels good," he commented.

"Mm hmm," Alice agreed, her eyes closed.

"We should probably continue this later," Hatter noted regretfully.

"Yeah, we should," Alice said absently, not showing any sign of moving.

Someone cleared his throat rather impatiently, reminding them that they were not alone in the corridor. The two almost leapt apart like they were a pair of teenagers caught up in a forbidden amorous embrace. "Dad," Alice breathed. The poor man was sitting against the wall, his eyes bloodshot and his neck mottled with fresh bruises. She glanced over at Hatter, who eyed the man with a troubled look.

"Are you okay, Mr. Hamilton?" he asked, striding over to the man and kneeling before him.

Alice stood where she was, frozen by the fear that she would have to endure that blank look of non-recognition or the hostile rejection which had shredded her heart. But then she realized that Hatter had called him by his true surname and her father had not protested it.

"Daddy?" Alice asked tremulously. Could she dare hope to believe her father's memory had finally returned?

Hatter shot her a concerned look, but backed away to give the father and daughter some space. Alice tentatively approached her father, her heart in her throat. The memories of their earlier confrontation were still like fresh wounds to her soul. She did not think she had the stamina to endure such rejection again. But when she saw those hazel eyes, she realized those eyes belonged to Robert Hamilton, not the queen's Carpenter.

"Jellybean," he croaked, his eyes shining with tears. "Thought I'd never…see you again."

Alice's breath hitched. "Oh Daddy!" she cried. The girl fell to her knees and was swept up into her father's waiting arms. She buried her face in his shoulder as she had done many times when she had been a child. "You remember! You remember!"

"I'm so sorry, Jellybean. For everything," her father wheezed. Whatever had happened to his neck—and Alice had a good idea of who was to blame—it made speech painful for him.

She shook her head, pulling away from her father's embrace to put a finger to his lips. "Shhh, it's okay, Dad. You have nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't your fault. I'm just glad you're okay."

The girl looked over at Hatter, who was standing somewhat awkwardly off to the side and beckoned him over. Beaming brightly, she stood and threaded her fingers through his. "Hatter, I'd like to introduce you to my father: Robert Hamilton."

Hatter smiled. "Actually, we've already met. He rescued me from the Tweedles."

Alice's eyes widened with surprise. "What? Really?"

Her companion nodded, his dark brown eyes dancing. "Yep, stole a Suit's gun and everything. You Hamiltons are a fierce lot."

Alice huffed in disbelief, her blue gaze swinging over to her father and shaking her head. "Well, thank you, Daddy, for saving him. You have no idea how much he means to me." She felt Hatter's hand tighten around her own after that remark.

"Uh, Alice, this may not be all that important, but, I have to ask, why are you dressed up like a Diamond?" Hatter posed his query in an innocent, curious tone, but when she saw his eyes, she noted (not with displeasure) how they roamed all over her body. The Diamond outfit certainly was more revealing than what she had been wearing and her legs were also bare since she had discarded the ruined raspberry tights. Not that, she thought sheepishly, her legs were in any condition to be stared at with appreciation. It had been a few days she had been able to get her hands on a decent razor.

"Well, I couldn't very well try to wander the halls of the casino dressed up like me without attracting a lot of attention. So, I found a Diamond girl and made her switch outfits with me," Alice explained.

Hatter cocked an eyebrow. "_Found_ a Diamond girl?"

She shrugged. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

Hatter just shook his head and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He planted a kiss on her temple and sighed. "Oh, Alice, what would I do without you?"

Both of them helped Alice's father to his feet. He appeared to be shaken up and a little bruised, but otherwise no worse for the wear after his scuffle with Mad March. His voice still sounded horrendous, so he kept his dialogue mostly to gestures and facial expressions. His eyes darkened noticeably when they fell upon the limp and headless form of Mad March.

"Never wanted…" the words were punctuated by a wheeze, "to revive." Robert waved his arms helplessly. "Dead should stay…" another wheeze, "dead."

Alice and Hatter exchanged knowing glances of dread. _Well, he's lived on the hellmouth for about eight years and never seemed to notice that the dead don't always stay dead. _

"We should get you guys out of here," Hatter remarked.

At first, Alice was about to agree with him. She would very much have liked to take her father away from this horrible place. But Charlie had given her an opportunity to try to take down the monarchy by drawing away most of its trained fighting force. Her people, though they did not know it, were counting on her to free them from their terrible fates. She could not abandon them now while this chance had fallen into her lap. She had to seize it.

Perhaps she could convince Hatter to take her father out of the casino. "Wait," Alice said, stopping. Hatter and her father turned to her with concern on their features. "Hatter, could you get my dad out of here? There's something I have to do…" Her sentence trailed off when she saw the fierce expression on his face.

"Alice Hamilton, if you think I'm going to let you out of my sight after all that's happened, you have even less brains than what March has left," Hatter replied, his voice implacable.

Well, she supposed she should have expected that. To be honest, she was not exactly keen on being separated from Hatter either. The Cheshire _had_ intimated that she would not have to accomplish this task alone anyway. Her eyes lingered over his immensely strong right hand. Other than that, Hatter had other skills which might come in handy. For starters, he was much more adept at using a firearm than she was.

"Okay, fair enough," Alice conceded. "But we can't leave just yet. We have to free the oysters."

"What? Alice, that's too dangerous. The casino is crawling with Suits!" Hatter pointed out.

Alice shook her head. "Not anymore. Charlie had a huge trick up his escutcheon."

Hatter's expression soured at the mention of the White Knight's name. "Charlie? You mean he actually came within ten feet of the casino after leaving me high and dry by the Hospital of Dreams?"

Alice's brow furrowed, but she waved away that comment to deal with later. "Well, basically, he brought an army with him and most of the Suits have been drawn outside. I'm guessing they've been called out to defend the perimeter. But we have to move quickly before they figure out it's all one big ruse."

Hatter ran his hand through his hair, obviously displeased with the notion of Alice putting herself more at risk. "How do you plan on releasing the oysters then? Aren't they like glued to the floor or something? I know you're strong, love, but trying to rip them off the floor might end badly. Also, there's the fact that they're all…not exactly all there."

"Stasis," Alice's father croaked. "Wake them."

"Wake them? Wake them, how?" Hatter asked, throwing his hands into the air in frustration.

Alice searched through her memories, feeling like she had been given the key to wakening the oysters once before.

"_Your people are practically ruled by emotions,"_ the Cheshire had told her. Even Caterpillar, who had proved to be one of the most pathetic rebellion leaders she had even seen, had managed to dole out some pearls of wisdom. "Something Caterpillar said, if you mix the right kind of bad with the wrong kind of good, you'll wind up with a total breakdown," she recounted thoughtfully. She looked up at Hatter, who was still frowning with doubt at the entire plan. A triumphant grin broke out on her features. "I know what to do."

"What?"

Catching her father's gaze, which was gleaming with pride, she announced, "We're gonna stir up some emotions."

* * *

Hurray, they're back together! Have I appeased you all, haha? Please, do tell me what you thought!


	27. Once More, With Extra Doses of Feeling

Okay so I feel like I must repent for making you guys wait an absurdly long time for the last two chapters. Also, writing this is far more entertaining than studying the general chemistry portion of my MCAT book.

Cheers!

* * *

**Chapter XXVI: **Once More, with Extra Doses of Feeling

Alice explained her madcap plan to awaken the oysters as they made their way to the Game Room where most of them were cloistered. Hatter only half-listened, merely content to hear her voice after spending hours fearing he would never hear it again (he was not counting the Tweedles' crude simulation of Alice). His eyes could not seem to tear away from her either. The Diamond uniform revealed more creamy skin than the blue dress, but he also caught glimpses of bruising on her back, no doubt from the tree limb which had saved her life. Though she walked briskly, Hatter had learned her so well that he could tell she was plagued with pain. He wanted nothing more than to whisk her away from this place and tend to her injuries (and then, perhaps, to his own). But his Alice was determined to see her duty through to the end, and he would be damned if he would not practically glue himself to her side if he could at least make sure she came through it in one piece. He was _not_ going through that emotional hell again.

Just as Alice had told them, the corridors were deserted. No Diamonds, lab workers, or Suits roamed the halls as usual in their stern silence. She briefly showed them the reason for the empty hallways by pointing to the windows. Indeed, there were figures in white armor covering the slopes surrounding the casino. Bits of silver where the paint had peeled off gleamed in the evening sunlight. As angry as he was with Charlie over deserting him and thereby indirectly leading to what he had thought had been the death of the woman he loved, he had to admit the knight really pulled through on this one. Perhaps, with time, he could find it within himself to forgive the old man.

"So, from what the Cheshire has shown me, it seems like the oysters are hooked up to some kind of drainage system…kinda like cattle," Alice explained, her brow wrinkling with distaste at the thought.

"Yes," her father confirmed; his voice still raspy after his near strangulation by Mad March, but steadily improving. "The raw mass…" he paused to take in a breath, "of emotions feed into a distillation system where the emotions are separated."

"You monitor the emotions that feed into it, right?" Hatter asked. He had always been a little curious as to how the process which had supported his livelihood of selling emotion-enhanced teas worked.

"Of course," Robert replied, almost looking insulted.

"Right and your system is all about getting positive feedback," Alice said. Her blue gaze swung over to Hatter. "But if we wake them up, that positive feedback will suddenly become negative. Can the distillation system handle it?"

Robert shook his head, his eyes darting around the area. The Game Room was just up ahead and still they had come across no resistance. "It can't. Mixing in negative emotions would threaten the stability of the tanks at a biochemical level. In fact, at the beginning stages, we were still experimenting with ways to keep the oysters in a semi-conscious, dream-like state for an extended period of time. It wasn't always successful. On one occasion, many awoke at once."

"And I'm betting they weren't thrilled with their situations," Hatter remarked dryly.

"No," Robert replied. "Once the negative emotions of all those oysters mixed in with the positive emotions, we nearly had an entire system break down. One of the tanks burst and flooded the laboratory. Several lab workers were exposed to pure, undiluted emotions and went insane." The man then halted, his eyes widening.

"Dad?" Alice said worriedly.

"It wasn't just the lab that experienced damage. There was also damage to the casino infrastructure. It was minor, but that was only because I released those oysters before too much damage could be done. But it nearly led to complete ruin," he informed them gravely. Coughing slightly, he then added in a quiet, morose voice, "Perhaps it would have been better if I had not interfered."

Hatter and Alice gawked at him. "Whoa, whoa, back up, there, Dad. Are you telling me that if we overload the distillation system we could potentially take out the entire casino building?" Her voice was incredulous.

"Who the bloody hell built this place?" Hatter wondered aloud.

Robert shrugged. "I suppose it's like a plumbing network, with pipes interwoven throughout the framework. But I'm no architect, so I can't fully explain why it happened."

"Wow. I didn't think 'bringing down the whole house of cards' was supposed to be taken literally," Alice quipped ironically. She plucked her hands upon her hips, her face twisting into a cute expression of hard thought. "But seeing as how a whole building falling on top of us might be somewhat bad for our health, I'm all for _not_ taking out the entire casino."

"I agree," Hatter said, prompting a small smile from Alice.

"But it would effectively ensure the destruction of the queen's foundation of power, literally and figuratively," her father pointed out.

Alice sighed heavily. "Well, so would waking all the oysters. I mean, she can't get any new ones since she doesn't have the ring."

Once again, Hatter had completely forgotten about the ring. Alice had refused to hand it over to Jack, a move which had pleased Hatter to no end. Did she still have it with her, or had she lost it in the fall which had nearly killed her? He found himself half hoping the ring had been lost. If the ring was lost, there was no conceivable way for Alice to return to her world…to leave him. On the other hand, the ring was the symbol of power Jack would desperately need to gain a hold over his mother if he wanted to wrest the throne out of her grasp.

"Where is the ring?" Hatter asked reluctantly.

Color bloomed on Alice's cheeks. "In a safe place," she said succinctly, her voice pitched oddly high. He cast an intrigued glance when he saw her eyes flit towards her bosom. Changing the subject back to the matter of waking and freeing the oysters, she turned to her father. "Dad, can the oysters be released outside of the laboratories?"

"Not all at once," Robert said, shaking his head. "The Spades which patrol the Game Room carry remotes designed to release individual oysters should the need arise. They can only be released all at once from inside the laboratory."

"Dammit," Alice swore.

"So, someone would need to be in the lab to release them before things start…combusting," Hatter said.

"Yes," said Robert, his eyes darkening. No one needed to say aloud who that person would have to be. There was only one person here who knew how to properly work the equipment.

Alice sucked in a deep breath and ran both her hands through her hair. Hatter knew she did not like the idea of sending her father off on his own, especially after being injured. But there appeared to be little choice in the matter if they did not want to become buried in the rubble of the Happy Hearts Casino. His heart twisted in agony for her. But there was no way he was willing to leave her side, not even for the man who had delivered him from the Tweedles.

"Well, there are other people working in the lab," Alice noted with a distinct air of desperation. "I mean, someone else could release the oysters before all hell broke loose, right?"

As if responding to her rising distress, Hatter moved closer to her to lend his quiet support. Gratefully, she leaned into him.

"Well, yes," Robert answered. "But…"

"You don't trust them to do it in time," Hatter filled in for him.

"Essentially."

Alice was quiet for a moment, digesting the information. "Well, maybe we should hit up the laboratory first and make sure you won't have any…problems." In other words, she wanted to make sure no one would be able to stop her father, or hurt him.

"No, Jellybean, we can't waste the time," her father argued. He patted the gun which was stowed back in the waistband of his trousers. "I have this, and, besides, I doubt my own technicians would rise up against me if it was in the mutual interest of survival. I'll be fine. You two get in there and do your part."

Robert had apparently gotten the message that Hatter was not separating himself from Alice for anything or anyone. His hazel eyes crossed paths with Hatter's dark brown ones, and the older man nodded, passing on a silent message of his own. _Take care of her,_ it said. Hatter nodded back, feeling his heart swell with an unfathomable sense of self-pride. It meant a lot that her father trusted him to take care of his daughter, especially after the horribly botched rescue attempt which had nearly cost Alice her life.

"But, Daddy—" Alice protested, her voice shrinking.

Robert cut her off. "No, Jellybean, it has to be this way." He reached out to embrace her, rubbing her back. "Just _you _be careful. We don't want to lose you again."

_No,_ Hatter said in silent agreement, _we definitely don't. _

Alice wiped at her eyes, but otherwise put on a brave front, sealing off the worry and fear she felt for her father.

"Oh, and once this is all over, you have a lot of explaining to do, young lady," her father added before turning to head for the laboratory. His voice was filled with mock sternness, but his eyes danced with amusement.

"Radioactive spider-bite?" Alice tried weakly.

Hatter stared at her with incomprehension.

"Yeah, you'll have to do better than that," Robert shot back with a smirk. And then he turned around and strode off.

As if expecting him to ask the question, Alice waved her hands dismissively. "Pop culture reference. Another occupational habit."

They turned towards the doors to the Game Room which stood ominously before them. Hatter felt Alice's fingers wind through his and he squeezed her hand. "You ready for this?" he asked softly.

"As I'll ever be," she replied.

"Now, can you please remember to obey that rule of yours this time?" Hatter asked her in an aggrieved voice.

"Hey, technically I didn't even break it," Alice retorted, whirling on him with her index finger thrust out.

"Well, you came too close for comfort," he shot back with vehemence.

Alice snorted ironically. "Oh please, I've come..." She then trailed off, perhaps thinking better of saying what it was she had been about to say. "Never mind. Besides, the rule applies to you, too. Break it and I'll kick your ass."

He chuckled at her fierce expression. But the laughter was quickly doused when, together, they strode up to the double doors of the Game Room and pulled them open. The sounds of coin slots, rotating roulette wheels, and throwing dice meshed together along with the low hum of voices. Diamonds dressed in glitzy, gauzy outfits with feathered headdresses twirled around on a central stage, throwing their arms out to gesture provocatively at their literally captive oyster audience. Though the casino was officially "under attack", the operations of the Game Room continued undisturbed. It appeared nothing would interfere with the queen's quest for stealing oyster emotions.

Jerking his head towards the stage area, Hatter threw in a rather inappropriately timed joke. "You couldn't have stolen one of those outfits?"

Alice rolled her eyes, but a smile played at her lips nonetheless. "Look at you, making jokes in times of peril. Makes a Slayer proud."

"Reckon we should bar the doors so we don't get interrupted?" Hatter asked, his eyes scanning the area for the Game Room Spades who would soon notice their presence. Alice's Diamond outfit might buy them a little bit of time, but being accompanied by a man with unkempt hair and a collection of bruises and scratches compromised the illusion.

"Yeah," Alice said; her voice distant as she surveyed the room. Beside the doors was a metal pole screwed into a round metal base. A red velvet rope was suspended between it and another metal pole further down. Alice marched over to the pole, unhooked the rope, and yanked the pole out of the base. She threw it to Hatter who slid it through the handles of the doors.

"What do we do about them?" Hatter nodded towards the two Spade guards who were lackadaisically strolling through the mass of oysters.

"What happened to you?" a Diamond asked, presumably to Alice. Straps extended from her shoulders to hold up a tray filled with poker chips. She appeared not to notice Hatter for the moment, most likely assuming he was just another oyster.

"Uhhh," Alice stammered, caught off guard by the question. "Some captives got loose and attacked me." She lied unconvincingly by Hatter's standards, but it seemed to be good enough for the Diamond. Those girls were not recruited on the basis of their intelligence levels, after all. "I think they're in league with whoever's attacking the casino."

The Diamond's red-colored brows rose in horror. "The casino's under attack?"

Alice glanced over at Hatter, thrown by the fact that the Diamond had been completely unaware of that fact. "Yeah, so I, uh, came to alert what's left of the security in the casino."

"Of course," the wide-eyed Diamond said, turning towards the Spades. "Reginald! Nero!" Hatter wisely chose to slink away, keeping his body angled away from the direct view of the Spades. Hopefully, they would peg him as one of the oysters as well. He did not wander too far, for he wanted to remain close by in case Alice needed him.

"What's wrong?" one of the Spades asked.

"She says some prisoners have escaped and attacked her!" the Diamond declared with all the melodrama of a true stage actress.

Immediately, the men began to reach for their side arms. But Alice must have decided the ruse had gone far enough. With the Spades too close at range to her to get in a decent shot, she latched onto one man's arm. In the space of a few seconds, she flipped the man over onto the blackjack table beside them while snapping out her leg to kick the other man to the floor. His sidearm tumbled out of his hands and Hatter swooped in to pick it up.

"You can stay there, mate," Hatter told the Spade lying on the ground, curled up into the fetal position and moaning in pain.

Alice disarmed the other Suit, staring at the gun for a few seconds as if trying to decide what to do with it. Then she raised the gun up in the air, screwed her eyes shut, and squeezed the trigger. The gun blast shocked the entire room into silence. The only ones who appeared unaffected were the oysters, who stood staring blankly ahead.

"What are you doing?" the Diamond shrieked, backing away from Alice. "Have you gone crazy?"

Alice ignored the girl. "Seal the other exit," she told Hatter as she lowered the gun. As he ran to do just that, she directed her words to everyone else. "Deal another hand, spin another roulette wheel and, I swear, it will be your last." She slowly moved the gun back and forth, aiming it at the Diamonds dotted throughout the room, who had all stopped what they were doing and were staring at Alice in blatant terror.

"Where the hell is security?" one of them asked.

Alice walked over to the stage area, which was now cleared of those dancing Diamonds in the feathered headdresses and nimbly hopped on top of it. Hatter followed suit, stationing himself in one of the dance cages brandishing his own gun. Now this was the part where Alice executed her brilliant plan of waking up the oysters. He hoped she had something elaborate planned, for the drugs they were under were strong. They had shown no reaction to the gun blast.

"Wake up!" she screamed. Well, that was not as elaborate as he had hoped.

"You're not dreaming! This is real! You have to wake up!" Alice pleaded. "Look at me! Just try, please! You have to snap out of this…it's killing you guys!" She threw a desperate look at Hatter, who could only shrug helplessly. He had no more idea what to do to reach these people than she did.

"Just, gah, think about your families! Remember? Where are they? You were taken from them, remember? Your jobs! You there!" Alice pointed towards a tall, dark skinned man in a blue button down shirt and black slacks. "You're a cop! Protect and serve! Remember _that_?"

The man stirred. He reached for his pockets and murmured, "Where are my keys?" Though that had probably not been the epiphany Alice had been trying to evoke, it was certainly better than no response at all. Hatter motioned for her to run with it.

"That is a good question. Where are your keys?" she asked. "Or your car? Or how about your house? Where are you? Think about it? Do you really think you're supposed to spend your lives in a casino game room? Try to remember how you got here! What about your names?" Her voice grew more confident as more oysters scattered throughout the room began to blink and move, the vacant expressions on their faces slowly transforming into looks of confusion. "What are your names? Try to remember that at least. Just…try to think."

"Taylor," a man with salt and pepper hair uttered. His brow wrinkled with uncertainty. "No, wait, that's my son…" Then, as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, his expression brightened. "My son," he whispered with fierce affection.

Hatter felt hope surge through him. She was slowly but surely getting through to them.

"Look down at your feet! Try to move away from the tables!" she encouraged them. Almost all the oysters were awake, becoming horribly aware of their situations. Moans of dismay and outrage filled the room when they complied with her order and found themselves inexplicably adhered to the tiled floor.

"I can't move my feet!" a woman cried out.

"Oh my god…what the fuck is going on?" one young man bellowed.

"What's happened to us?"

"People!" Alice shouted, raising up her hands, seemingly forgetting one of them held a gun. "Calm down, okay. We're going to get you out of this, but you have to calm down." Calm was the last thing these people were going to be feeling. They were confused, probably disoriented, scared, and angry, and all those things led to panic. There was no way Alice and Hatter could prevent them from feeling what would come naturally to anyone in such a situation.

The situation worsened dramatically when everyone heard thumps up against the blocked double doors and angry voices demanding to be let inside. People frantically tried to free themselves, some of them merely succeeding in falling onto their bottoms, their feet still stuck flat on the floor.

"You hear that!" Alice yelled. "They're trying to break in to stop us. They don't want you to wake up!" Panicked, she looked back at Hatter. He knew what she was thinking. Why had her father not freed the oysters from the floor yet?

Then the doors broke open and Suits flooded in, guns drawn. The Minister of Clubs fronted the procession, bearing no weapon of his own. His presence was surprising. If Hatter recalled correctly, the man was supposed to have taken a retinue of men to search Alice's body at the bottom of the city. Of course, there was actually no body to search, but there was no way they could have gone there and back in such a short amount of time. Charlie's unexpected "siege" must have changed the plans.

The Suits opened fire on Hatter and Alice, who were standing exposed on the stage. Hatter fired off a few shots of his own before jumping down off the dance cage to avoid being hit. He took refuge behind the stage, crouching low to avoid being hit. Unfortunately, he could not see what Alice was doing, or if she had even managed to dodge the attack. His heart skipped a few beats when he thought about the possibility of her being shot.

_No, not after everything…_Fear rather than bravery caused him to tentatively peak over the side of the stage. There were at least a dozen Suits at the other end of the room. The two Spades whom Hatter and Alice had disarmed were stumbling over to the group, frantically pointing towards the stage area. The oysters were in a frenzy of panic and terror. Their screams almost drowned out the sounds of the gunfire. This was not good. If they had been feeling scared and trapped before, the Suits' appearance along with the immediate gunfire had exacerbated matters exponentially. As if in confirmation of that fact, Hatter felt small vibrations beneath his feet, and he looked down at the floor in alarm. Just as Alice's father had said, the oysters' overwhelmingly negative emotions were overloading the system, making it highly unstable.

"Alice!" he cried. Her father should have released the oysters by now. Something must have gone terribly wrong.

* * *

Alice flung out every curse she could think of when the Suits came bursting through the doors. They did not even stop to tell her or Hatter to freeze or to drop their weapons. They just immediately began firing at them. Of course, they did have all the makings of a bunch that shot first and probably did not even bother with the questions later.

Instinct forced her to dive for cover, which turned out to be a painful maneuver with her broken posterior ribs. She hit the floor in a somersaulting move, stifling the cry of pain which bubbled up her throat. Scrambling for the scant cover a blackjack table provided, Alice could only hope that Hatter had been able to seek out cover as well. She had not heard him cry out in pain, but, granted, it was hard even for her sharp ears to discern such details when the room was filled with gunfire and the motley screams of the oysters.

The oysters were understandably terrified. They had just woken up to find themselves in a place they had never been before without a single memory of how they had gotten there and how long they had been there. To top it off, they were immobilized by unseen restraints. Unable to flee, they were trapped in this bizarre room and now there were over a dozen men firing guns. Though the guns may not have been aimed at them, it was still quite terrifying to hear those blasts at close range.

Alice's stomach knotted with dread. Why had her father not released the oysters by now? Keeping them hooked into the distillation system with all this chaos going on around them had to be pumping an alarming amount of negativity into the tanks. Her alarm heightened when she felt the minute tremors in the ground. _Fuck. _The oysters' flood of fear, panic, and confusion was destabilizing the system, ultimately compromising the structural integrity of the whole building.

_I do hope the queen fired whoever designed this building because he fucked up…big time. _Alice took back that thought when she remembered that the queen did not "fire" people, she simply had them beheaded.

"Alice!" In spite of the situation, Alice sagged against the blackjack table in relief to hear Hatter call out her name. He was all right. So long as Hatter was unharmed, she felt there was some way they could resolve this situation.

She glanced down at the gun in her hand, frowning. Her skills with firearms were practically nonexistent. Vampires could be harmed with bullets, but they could not be killed by them. Some demon species could be killed with bullets, but most had hides too thick for the small projectiles to penetrate. Besides, the operations of the Slayers had to be executed with a degree of stealth, for the most part. Guns were not quiet, stealthy weapons. Her ringing eardrums could definitely attest to that. So Slayers were not typically trained in the use of firearms. They did not even appear to have a natural, instinctive skill over how to use them as was usually seen with more archaic weapons.

She swiftly pulled the butterfly knife out of her boot and flipped the blade open. Yes, _that_ weapon felt far more natural in her hands. Before she could even contemplate how she would take out the Suits with one knife against over a dozen guns a voice called out "Stop!" The gunfire and the screams ceased, which was an amazing transition from just moments before where it had been almost too loud to think.

Alice's breath stilled. That voice had belonged to her father. A stream of questions ran through her mind. What was he doing here now? Why had he not released the oysters as they had planned? This plan had been on shaky grounds to begin with, but it was the best she had been able to come up with under the circumstances. Now it was all going to hell. As if in testament to that, the tremors which had been mere vibrations before grew more intense. Plaster cracked from above, showering the room with a faint spray of white dust.

_Oh shit. Are these guys not noticing this?_

"You're frightening the oysters," her father admonished the Suits as if they were all a bunch of unruly, misbehaving children. "I'll deal with this."

Unable to help herself, Alice peaked over the edge of the blackjack table to view the proceedings at the other end of the room, her heart in her throat. The rumbling quakes, which were still relatively minor, did not appear to deter the Suits from their duty. They all had their guns trained on her father. The Suits would not shoot her father, would they? He was supposedly very important to the queen. That gave him a measure of protection, right?

"Carpenter!" the bowler hat man (Alice still had not learned his name) cried out in stark surprise. "Are you…" the man fumbled for words, "…you?"

A frisson of fear ran through Alice. That was a good question, for even she could not tell at this moment. But he had been gone not even half an hour. There was no way they could brainwash him again in that amount of time. But, then again, this was Wonderland. Perhaps they knew techniques of brainwashing far more advanced than her world.

Alice swallowed back her trepidation and stood, prompting a hissing protest from behind her which no doubt came from Hatter. At first there was no recognition from the Suits or the bowler hat man since she still wore the Diamond outfit. Eventually, the bowler hat man's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "You!" he shouted incredulously. "But you're…you…you're dead!"

Alice had to smirk a little at that remark. It was difficult not to throw in a quip about how some of the people she worked with (three immediately jumping to mind) had died and had not stayed that way for long. Besides, she could not include herself in that category. She had never actually died.

Her father regarded her, appearing for all intents and purposes to be unmoved by her appearance. It was only his eyes, his warm hazel eyes, which gave him away. Alice saw the love, fear, and relief in his gaze. He was still Robert Hamilton. They had not stolen his mind again. She wondered what they were supposed to do now. Put on an act of some kind?

"Miss, just put the gun and the knife down," her father instructed, keeping his voice neutral toward her.

"No thanks," Alice replied coolly.

She kept a watchful gaze on the Suits. A blanket of tension had descended upon the room. It was better than the rampant terror and chaos of gunfire and screams, but now it felt like they were on the verge of something worse. Everyone was waking up to the fact that the ground beneath their feet was quaking and there were spidery cracks forming along the ceiling and walls. Even the Suits were glancing around nervously, but they stubbornly held their ground.

Her father's eyes darted from side to side. She could see he desperately wanted to gain a measure of control over the situation. It would have been much easier if he had just stayed put in the lab. Why had he come to the Game Room, throwing himself into the risk of being shot? Or had he come because of his worry for her? Had he wanted to stop the Suits from shooting her and Hatter?

_Oh you stupid, stupid man. I appreciate the concern, but you may have just killed us all._

Beyond her father, there was a movement of color amongst the charcoal of the Suits. A rotund man with a wide, yellow, ruffled collar surrounding his neck and a gray-blue jumpsuit came stumbling into the room. The ridiculous collar made his head look extremely small, except for the large drooping mustache which gave the impression of a walrus. With one hand, he clutched at his huge stomach where blood poured from a wound. With the other, he grasped a gun. He lifted it up to aim it directly at her father, who, with his back turned, was completely unaware of the danger. The trigger was squeezed.

With a speed which was unprecedented for even a Slayer, Alice launched forward, simultaneously tackling her father to the ground and flinging out her butterfly knife. They crashed to the ground, Alice landing atop her father in a heap of numb bewilderment. She had practically felt the heat of the bullet's momentum as it hurtled through the air, just barely missing her shoulder as she had fallen to the ground.

She had thrown the knife with no particular aim. In fact, it had not even been a conscious decision to throw the knife. Instinct had made her react to the threat, to eliminate it. A strangled, guttural moan of pain accompanied by sickening gurgles told her the knife had hit someone. Her face stark white, she looked up to see the knife had struck the walrus man in the neck. It was a definite kill shot. His stomach wound forgotten (indeed, rendered irrelevant now), the man's hands flew up to his neck where the handle of the blade stuck out prominently. Blood spurted down to soak into his collar and the behemoth stumbled back, eventually collapsing onto his back, choking up his life's blood.

_Oh fuck…I just killed a guy,_ Alice thought to herself in horror. Manslaughter quickly became the least of her problems though. The act of spilled blood was evidently the straw which broke the camel's back. Tremors rocked the entire room now, sending the disco ball at the top of the stage crashing to the floor. Sparkling, reflective shards scattered throughout the room. Support columns at the side of the room groaned alarmingly and huge cracks appeared in the walls.

"Alice!" Hatter's voice reached her through the fray of screams and rumbles. She was roughly pulled to her feet by her companion. "We need to get out of here!"

Her father rose to his feet, his own face sapped of color and appearing far older than it had just minutes before. "The oysters," he murmured, his gaze locked onto the screaming, trapped people.

Mercifully, someone in the lab must have hit the release switch because within a few seconds, the oysters quickly found they were able to lift up their feet. Immediately, they swarmed towards the exit. The Suits and the bowler hat man had already vacated the premises.

Ceiling panels popped and fell to the ground, smashing into several pieces just a few feet from where Hatter, Alice, and Robert stood. That jolted the three of them into escaping, heading for the exit after the mass of oysters. Once they stepped outside the Game Room, Alice screeched to a halt, the blood draining even further from her already leeched face when she remembered there were three individuals who would still be trapped in the casino. The two Suits and the Diamond whom she had imprisoned in the back ground entrance would be unable to make their escapes. One life had already ended because of her. She could not let those three die as well.

"Hatter! Where is that little back entrance place?" Alice grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him around.

"What? Why?" Hatter asked, gazing at her with shock.

"Because I tied up three people down there so I could get into the casino and find you and they'll die if I don't get them out!" she cried desperately.

Hatter shook his head. "No, Alice, there's no time. We have to save ourselves."

"He's right, honey," her father said in agreement.

"No!" Alice vehemently declared. "I can't let more people die because of me."

Hatter stared at her, the building falling down around them, before comprehension slowly dawned upon his features. A few Diamonds and lab workers rushed by them, and he glanced towards them. She knew he desperately wanted to be following them, but only if she was in tow. She did not even bother to ask him to take her father and leave her to find those three people herself. The answer to that insane request was already well known.

"All right," he complied quickly. "Follow me."

"Dad, you should go!" Alice implored him, fearing her father would not be able to keep up with her or Hatter.

The man fervently shook his head. "No way, Jellybean. I'm not leaving you now!" he replied fiercely.

There was no time to argue the point. She would just have to hope he could keep up. Luckily, the archway leading to that ground entrance was not located far from the Game Room. Alice, so anxious to reach the room in time to free those people, wrenched the door clear off its hinges. The spiral stairway buckled and heaved as they descended the steps. The two Suits and the Diamond were right where Alice had left them, handcuffed and taped to the protruding pipes in the walls. The one Suit had woken up and all three of them were cowering in terror against the wall, not knowing why the building was shaking so violently.

In the interest of saving time, Alice wrapped her hands around the pipe and mustered up her strength in one great heave. It tore from the wall, spewing out cool, acrid smelling water. The Diamond and the Suits slid their arms free of the pipe and, without so much as a thank you, shouldered past Alice to get to the door. She could not be too insulted by the lack of gratitude, seeing as how she had put them there in the first place.

"Oi! My hat," Hatter remarked brightly. He snatched it up from the table where Alice had left it, smiling with surprise.

"Okay, _now_ we can go!" Alice announced.

She, her father, and Hatter sprinted out the door, heading for the hills where a mass of people, oysters and Wonderlanders alike, were gathering to watch the complete destruction of the Happy Hearts Casino.

It was like spectators of a car wreck or a bank robbery. The carnage was just too horrible to tear the eyes away from it. Her heart beating rapidly, Alice's gaze became fixed on the crumbling casino. She felt Hatter's fingers wind through her own, which instilled a sense of calm over her. She glanced over at him and could only smile when she saw he had wasted no time in securing his hat back to his head.

The building gave one final shudder before completely toppling over, disintegrating into a pile of rubble. A great cloud of dust and debris whipped up from the building's demise and the spectators on the hills gasped almost as one. The great towering edifice of the Happy Hearts Casino was no more. So versed in the destruction of what had been a prison for some and a workplace for others, no one even seemed to notice the skeletons dressed in peeling white armor surrounding them on the hills.

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Is it sad that I wanted them to go back to that ground entrance more in the interest of saving Hatter's hat rather than the three people? I mean, it's not like I wanted those three to die either…

Oh and major kudos to anyone who gets the reference made in the title of the chapter!

Anyway, please review!


	28. The Forging of Heroes

So, for those who did not know, the title of the previous chapter was in honor of "Once More, With Feeling", the musical episode from the sixth season of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. Anyone who has not seen that episode, I strongly urge you to do so because it's awesome. And if you have seen it, go see it again haha!

Thanks so much to my readers and reviewers. I would dearly love to hear from my silent crowd (I know you're out there btw!). You don't have to write a lengthy, complex review (unless you want to, by all means). Just a few words to tell me how I'm doing or how you feel about the story would be grand.

Anyway, on with the story, which is starting to wind down to the end, but we've still got some ground to cover first.

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**Chapter XXVII: **The Forging of Heroes

Hatter shook his head in awe at the ruins which marked the remains of the Happy Hearts Casino. It was difficult for his mind to absorb the fact that the tower was gone, completely destroyed. It was not something he had expected to see in his lifetime. Not only had it been a nearly impenetrable fortress, it had been a symbol of the near absolute power the Hearts had wielded. But buildings could fall, and so could queens. He idly wondered if the Queen of Hearts had made it out in time.

Alice, standing beside him, let out a low whistle of wonder. "Well, guess we went with the literal interpretation," she deadpanned.

Hatter grinned, a giddy feeling of exuberance suffusing his battered body. Alice was alive, they had freed the oysters, and they had brought down the whole house of cards. The day had been a curious mixture of emotional highs and lows; he was glad it seemed to be ending on the high note. He turned to the petite girl. "Don't suppose I could get that hug now?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow in such a way to suggest to her that he was asking for more than that.

Before Alice could oblige him, they were rudely interrupted.

"Who is responsible for this?" The voice was unmistakable. Filled with a haughty sense of entitlement and authority, it could belong to none other than the Queen of Hearts.

The crowds around them turned towards the monarch's voice, curious and more than a little fearful of what she would do. The queen may have lost her palace and the oysters from which she extracted the emotions that kept her people under control, but she was far from powerless just yet. The queen's squat figure emerged into view, her wine colored curls in slight disarray, but otherwise looking none the worse for wear after escaping from her crumbling fortress. She was accompanied by a small entourage of Suits, who were physically clearing a path for the woman by roughly shoving bystanders off to the side.

"Answer me!" the queen demanded. "Or I'll have every single person here executed!" Once, such a threat would have struck even Hatter with an icy shudder of fear. But today they had proved the queen was just a woman, a heartless, but fallible, woman. Her maddened eyes speared the crowd.

Alice, who was partially hidden from view both by her misleading Diamond costume and by Hatter and her father standing in front of her, nudged him. "She thinks I'm dead, too, right?"

Hatter shrugged. "I would think so." He glanced down at her, noticing her devious grin. "What are you planning?"

"Oh…nothing," Alice said, the tone of her voice belying the truth of such a claim. He sighed in resignation as she boldly moved into the open, showing herself to the Queen of Hearts.

"Hi," she greeted with a cheerful wave.

The queen's expression darkened. "What do you want, you—" Her words died in her throat when she realized who it was who addressed her. "_You're_ supposed to be dead!" the woman sputtered, as if Alice had committed a grave offense by continuing to live. She cast a furious gaze upon the Minister of Clubs, who was standing amidst the oysters with his own men.

"I came back," Alice replied. Hatter and Robert exchanged confused glances before shrugging at each other. If Alice wanted to stretch the truth to intimidate the Queen of Hearts, they were not going to refute it. "I was sent back by forces greater than you or me to give you a message."

The queen stared at Alice, completely nonplussed, before shaking herself. "What message?" she hissed. Hatter could detect the undercurrent of uncertainty in the woman's voice. The veneer of hubris the queen wore was beginning to crack and crumble just as surely as the casino had.

"You're done here. Your time as queen is over and you failed at it…epically," Alice said stonily. The older woman's face paled as the girl meticulously laid out her crimes, "You betrayed the people of Wonderland by dangling quick fixes and drugs in their faces rather than making sure they had adequate food, water, shelter, and protection. Those who did not want your drugs, you turned into outcasts and refugees who live on the brink of poverty, starvation, and illness." The images of those refugees, scraping out their meager existences within the Great Library and elsewhere came to Hatter. He recalled how Alice had been so distraught over seeing their plight. Now those people would finally get the justice they deserved.

"Furthermore," Alice continued, her voice hard as a diamond stone, "you violated the people from my world, stealing them from their homes and families, stealing their memories, and stealing their own free will just so you could control your own people. You were never fit to call yourself a queen."

A hush had descended upon the crowds, oysters and Wonderlanders alike listening raptly to Alice's calm diatribe. The queen, however, did not appear to want to take in another word. She raised up her hand. "Silence, you little wretch!" she screamed hysterically. "I am the Queen of Hearts. This is _my_ kingdom! I do as I wish, and nothing, not even _you_ can take that away from me."

Alice shook her head, regarding the queen almost with a sense of pity on her features. "I didn't take it away from you. You lost the right to it all on your own. I'm just the messenger, here to give you your wakeup call."

The queen lost control of her temper, turning to the Suits who flanked her. "Take her!" They, at least for the moment, were still gripped in a thrall of obedience and loyalty. The men advanced upon Alice, who sighed wearily and threw herself into a defensive stance.

Hatter immediately moved to plant himself in front of Alice, silently sending the message that if the men wanted her, they would have to get through him first. Robert was quick to join him on his left, giving the younger man a grim smile. Surprisingly, they were not the only ones who felt protective of Alice. That dark-skinned man she had called a cop (whatever that was) also moved to intercept the Suits who came stalking towards them. "Touch the lady and I'll shuffle your deck!" he threatened. As if emboldened by the display from one of their own, other oysters began lining up, forming a protective barrier between Alice and the queen's men.

The Suits glanced at one another in uncertainty. They obviously had not expected the oyster captives to rise up against them. The queen stared at them with enraged incredulity. "Don't just stand there! Arrest her!"

Alice was unperturbed by the queen's threats. "Oh, get over yourself!" she shouted from her vantage point behind Hatter.

The queen's baleful eyes narrowed, her meaty fists clenching as if she were imagining them wrapping around Alice's neck. "Off with her head!" she screamed.

Alice snorted and waved her hands dismissively. "Yes, yes, that's your answer to everything. But, answer me this, _Your Majesty,_" her voice was laced with sarcasm as she said the royal honorific, "what will you do when the emotions start wearing off of your people? When they start to wake up to the fact that they're practically starving and living in squalor? What will you do when they figure out you've basically been drugging them to keep them under control? You're only as powerful as the people who hold you up." As she spoke, she started moving out from behind the protective barrier.

A murmur went through the crowd. They probably never had considered the queen's power in those terms. She had dominion over them, but only because they had allowed it. The true power had been in their hands all along. The queen had never once lowered herself to commit acts of murder herself. No blood had been spilled by her, personally. She had always depended on others, manipulating them to bend to her will. She had used fear to oppress and control her servants.

"I'll just rebuild the casino! It will be even grander than before!" the queen declared. Her arrogance was stunning, especially when her own servants, including the Minister of Clubs, were surreptitiously backing away from her.

"And fill it with what, exactly?" Alice asked. Her gaze flicked over to the oysters. "More of my people? I don't think so." In any case, she would need the Stone of Wonderland to accomplish that, not to mention the expertise of Alice's father. Neither of those was within her grasp any longer.

The girl inclined her head towards the confused Suits, who all appeared to be struggling with themselves. "Take a good hard look at your queen, gentlemen. Make sure she's really worth fighting for. Make sure she's really worth fighting _us_ for." She gestured towards Hatter standing amidst the group of oysters who had flocked to Alice's side. He grinned at her in return.

The Suits, who were well aware of how formidable Alice was in a fight and possibly had a decent idea of Hatter's own particular prowess, relaxed their aggressive posturing somewhat. They turned back to the short, plump, red-haired woman. In fact, everyone's eyes, oyster and Wonderlander alike, seemed to have locked onto the queen.

"How dare you all look at me!" she fumed indignantly. Hatter could see the panic setting into her features, warring with the anger for dominance. The woman was steadily losing control of the situation. "_She's_ the one you should be looking at!" Her pudgy arm lifted up to point towards Alice.

"How many of you have lost loved ones to the chopping block, hmm? Is this the way you want to live your lives? In constant fear?" Her voice had softened with sympathy, but it resonated throughout the entire crowd. "I don't think I'm the problem."

"This is my kingdom!" the queen spat. "And I am still queen!"

"Look around you!" Alice countered. "Your power is gone."

Before the queen could muster a response, a commotion outside the throngs of people drew everyone's attention. Eventually, the crowds parted to allow the passage of Jack, who was accompanied by a tall woman with an abundance of golden curls tumbling over her tight-fitting, pinstriped top. Hatter vaguely recalled seeing her in the throne room, though, at the time he had been too stricken with grief and sorrow to pay much attention to his surroundings. She must be the duchess whom Jack was engaged to. He found himself unexpectedly relieved to see the Prince of Hearts, even if he was a two-timing prick. The queen had sentenced her own son to death when they had been brought before her in the throne room. He did not think he could ever bring himself to actually _like_ the man, but he did recognize the prince's political importance to the future of Wonderland. Let it never be said that he had lost sight of the big picture.

"Jack!" the queen cried upon noticing her son. "Thank heavens you're here. Get everyone to fall in line!"

"Me?" Jack said in bafflement. "Didn't you sentence me to death?"

"Oh," the queen griped, "don't be so sentimental. You're just like your father! I was only doing my job. Now, come on, rally the troops!"

"No, Mother," Jack answered, his voice tired, but implacable. "It's over. Give up."

"Oh, and I suppose _you_ want the crown now, huh?" his mother remarked in a malicious tone. "And what, may I ask, will you do with all the oyster rabble? You can't send them back home! You haven't got the ring!" The woman's voice was stricken with a sense of mad triumph.

Hatter snickered under his breath. He knew Alice had the ring, and he had a good idea of where she had been hiding it. Alice, for her part, glanced down at her bosom and up at him, who just shrugged. She then rolled her eyes and shoved her hand down the top of the dress, rummaging around for a few seconds before she pulled it out. The ring was clenched between her thumb and index finger.

"No, but I do," she announced, holding the ring up above her head.

How Jack had not recognized Alice from the start was a mystery to Hatter. This man had professed to care for her more than anyone else in the world and he had seen Alice fall from the cliff edge just as Hatter had done. He had heard the grief in the prince's voice as he railed against his mother's men. And, yet, here Alice had been standing, in clear view of Jack, and he had not so much as given her a second look. Even when her back had been turned to Hatter during that brawl with Mad March, he had instantly recognized her for who she really was.

In any case, when the man finally noticed Alice and realization dawned upon him, his jaw dropped in shock. "Alice! Oh my god, you're alive!" He rushed towards her, pulling her into a tight embrace, provoking a scowl from both Hatter and the golden-haired duchess who had been at Jack's side. Alice, for her part, just patted him on the back in a slightly awkward manner, giving Hatter an apologetic look.

When Jack pulled back from the embrace, a spate of nearly unintelligible syllables rushed from his mouth. "How is this possible? Are you all right? I saw you fall! What happened? Why are you dressed like a Diamond?" The last question was posed with no small degree of bemusement and a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, it's a long story. Too long to really get into right now," Alice replied. She motioned towards his mother, who was positively seething with fury at seeing the ring in the hands of an oyster.

Hatter told himself he was waltzing over to stand by Alice simply because he wished to protect her from the ire of the queen. It was not because he was jealous of the way Jack was standing so close to her, practically devouring her in that scintillating Diamond outfit. No, definitely not because he was jealous.

"Hello, Jack," Hatter greeted with forced cheer. He snaked an arm around Alice's waist, subtly pulling her closer to him and away from the prince. His possessiveness did not go unnoticed by Alice, who gave him a sidelong glance which was both parts amused and annoyed.

Jack nodded at Hatter, a muscle twitching in his cheek that was strongly reminiscent of his mother. "Hatter. Glad to see you made it out."

"You, too." The eyes of both men narrowed.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, the _ring_, Jack!" Alice cut in. She held it out to him, offering it up to him as she had not done in the Kingdom of the Knights. Under her breath, Hatter heard her mutter despairingly, "Men!"

"That is _my_ ring!" the queen raged, sounding as if she were a small, spoiled child who was being forced to share a favorite toy.

"No, Mother," Jack retorted, making no move to take the ring from Alice. "The Stone of Wonderland really belonged to those who forged it. You stole it from them. As you can see, the return of the White Knights," he paused to gesture towards the skeletal warriors standing sentry on the hills, looking in on the crowds in grim silence, "is a sign that you've committed grave offenses against the kingdom of Wonderland and its people. It is over for you."

The queen's cheeks, so ruddy with the heat of anger, began to take on a sickly white pallor. Still trying to hold onto what shreds of dignity were left to her, the woman drew herself up straight and regarded her son. "So, you will have me killed, then? Would that satisfy your pathetic ideas of justice?"

Hatter and Alice both exchanged silent looks before turning their quizzical gazes to Jack. Indeed, everyone's attention was on the Prince of Hearts—who Hatter supposed was now to be called the King of Hearts. The _former _queen certainly had a lot of lives and unspeakable tragedies to answer for. Ancient law would have demanded her life in recompense.

The fair-haired man was silent, a troubled look glazing over his features. His mother may have sentenced him to death without blinking an eye, but could he do the same? "No," Jack decided. His mother did not show any sign of relief at hearing of the mercy. She had become as still as a statue, stoically accepting her fate. It was a startling difference from her rants and raves earlier. "But you _will_ face consequences for the decisions you have made during your reign."

Alice was bobbing her head in approval from beside Hatter. He supposed the prince—no, _king_—had made a wise decision in opting for mercy over retribution. Putting his mother to death as she would have swiftly done to him would have basically put him at the same level as her. It was a good start to the reign to take the moral high ground. But a frisson of unease ran through him at the thought of leaving the deposed queen alive. There were bound to be people who still supported her, and leaving her alive within the confines of Wonderland would pose a threat to Jack's reign.

The new King of Hearts turned to Alice, holding out his hand. "The ring, Alice," he firmly requested. The girl relinquished the ring with a weary, but warm smile. It was a symbolic passing of the torch, of the power of the throne of Wonderland. Somehow, it seemed fitting that the Alice of Legend (though she would always deny that title, Hatter knew) would be the one to symbolically crown the new ruler of Wonderland. He held it up above his head and the silence evaporated as cheers erupted throughout the crowd. Even the oysters, who had little idea of what exactly was transpiring, joined in the cheers. They understood enough to know the Queen of Hearts had orchestrated their abductions from their homes, enslaved them, and would have drained them dry of all their emotions. It could only be a good thing that she was now rendered powerless.

Alice leaned towards Hatter with a relieved expression on her face. "Thank god, that thing was really starting to chafe my…" she stumbled over the words, her cheeks taking on most becoming rosy color, "um…skin."

"Right," Hatter replied saucily, his eyes dancing with intrigue. He refrained from mentioning ways he could help alleviate the chafing to her _skin._ This was neither the time nor the place for such banter. Although, according to Alice, anytime was the proper time for banter.

His companion then gasped, clapping her hand against her mouth, her blue eyes growing wide with horror.

"What?" Hatter asked in concern.

"Charlie! Have you seen him?" she asked, scanning the milling throngs of people.

"No," Hatter replied, joining her search. Certainly the old codger would have stuck out in the crowd with his gawky height and battered plate armor. There was no sign of him, though. He thought the knight would have shown himself by now, especially since he had proclaimed himself to be Alice's protector. Hatter ran through all the horrible things he had thought and wished upon the knight when he had been trapped in the depths of grief. He had been out of his mind with emotional anguish, blaming himself and looking for others to blame as well. He had not truly meant for anything to happen to the old knight. Guilt assailed him at the thought of Charlie lying somewhere injured, or worse, dead. The man had proven himself a stalwart and true friend. Even if he had run off with his tail tucked behind his legs during that awful rescue attempt at the Hospital of Dreams, Hatter knew that plan had been cockeyed from the start. It had been unfair to expect Charlie simply to follow his directives.

"We have to find him," Alice said.

Hatter nodded his agreement and took her hand. The two started deftly wending their way through the hordes.

"Alice, Hatter, where are you going?" asked the concerned voice of Alice's father. The pair stopped, sheepishly meeting the suspicious gaze of the man.

It was then that Hatter realized what it must have looked like: the two of them, hands linked together, skirting through the crowd in such a hurry. The whole thing smacked of two lovers escaping for a secret tryst. _If only, _he lamented_._ They had kissed in front of her father, after all, so he must have had some idea of the nature of their relationship. _Is there one?_ Hatter wondered to himself. After all they had endured, there was no longer any question of the nature of the feelings and regard they held towards one another. But that did not mean there was an actual relationship. He shoved those thoughts and the dismaying path they led down aside. There would be time enough to worry over such things later. The whereabouts and well-being of Charlie took precedence at the moment.

"We have to find a friend of ours, Dad," Alice explained quickly. "He might be hurt."

"Oh," her father said, the suspicion clearing from his gaze to be replaced by sympathy. "Would that be the friend who…ehm…brought the army?"

"Yeah, that would be Charlie," Hatter affirmed.

At that moment, a few of the laboratory workers came forward to ply Alice's father with dozens of questions. With a beleaguered expression, he waved them off to see to their friend.

Not all of the White Knight corpses were propped upright. Some littered the ground, their bodies scattered into an array of bones and pieces of armor. It would seem the queen had ordered her guard to attack the army. The sight of the carnage, even if it had not actually claimed any lives, made the hearts of both Hatter and Alice sink. Charlie was flesh and blood. Unlike the bones of his long deceased brethren, he could not be reassembled. If he had been hit by one of the bombs, the result would have been bloody and fatal.

"Charlie!" Alice shouted. Hatter echoed her frantic cry.

Stationed a few paces ahead was an archaic ballista crafted of wood. Hatter recognized the weapon as one used by the ancient knights, but it had long since been supplanted by modern weaponry—much of which was imported from the world of the oysters and later expanded upon. It was meant to launch large missiles, usually something resembling a spear crafted of wood or metal, at distant targets. But it was not the ancient siege weapon which the two were interested in. Rather, it was the armored form sprawled on the ground behind it which caught their attention.

"Charlie!" Alice gasped, sprinting ahead of Hatter.

Beside the ballista a bomb had torn a chunk out of the earth, covering the contraption in a layer of soil and grass. Charlie was likewise covered, his exposed face stained with grit and grime and his dented armor smeared with dirt. The man's eyes were closed and he gave no sign of movement, no signs of life. Hatter feared the worst.

Alice dropped to her knees beside the man and leaned down, practically pressing her ear up against his mouth. She then emitted a deep sigh of relief. "He's breathing. And by the sound of it, it isn't labored. So that's a good sign."

Hatter knelt down on Charlie's other side. He could see no outward signs of wounds or injuries, but the knight was covered head to toe in plate armor and chainmail. There could be injuries, but they would be hidden from view. "Should we move him?"

Alice shook her head. "No. We don't know how he was injured, but, for all we know. he could have a brain injury or a spinal injury. The fact that he's unconscious is some cause for concern." She spoke knowledgeably and Hatter figured she would have some experience with battlefield medicine. She crept around to station herself behind Charlie's head and placed a hand on either side of his temple, firmly cradling his head in her hold. "See if you can wake him up," she instructed Hatter.

"Um, okay," he replied uncertainly. He crouched forward. "Oi! Charlie! Can you hear me, mate?"

There was no response.

"Charlie! Come on, mate! You can't sleep through your great victory! Didn't you see the casino fall?" Hatter cajoled.

A small moan came from the man. Alice nodded encouragingly at Hatter who continued shouting and coaxing the man out of his unconscious slumber into the waking world. The knight's eyelids flickered and his entire body jerked. "Attack! Come out, cowards!" Charlie screamed, abruptly sitting up and startling Alice. Apparently, abruptly jerking upwards was the only way the old knight knew how to awaken from sleep.

"Charlie!" Alice cried happily. She and Hatter beamed at each other in relief that their friend appeared to be all right.

"Hm?" The knight's armor creaked as he turned at the sound of his name. When he saw Hatter and Alice, he frowned in confusion. "Wh-where…How did you two get here? Did I rescue you?" If he noticed Alice's outfit was different than before, he gave no sign of it.

"Um," Alice stammered, looking to Hatter for assistance.

"I destroyed the usurping queen's stronghold!" Charlie cut in, staggering to his feet. The knight wobbled a bit, somewhat unsteady after being knocked off his feet and into unconsciousness. "Look yonder! The foul pretender's fortress is gone!"

Alice and Hatter glanced at each other, perplexed over this development. After a beat, the two just shrugged at each other. While Charlie may not have actually been directly responsible for the destruction of the casino, he had been crucial to the victory nonetheless. Far be it from them to disabuse him of the notion that he had taken the building apart himself. He deserved the vindication.

"Yeah, Charlie, you did it. You're a hero," Hatter praised, reaching out to wrap an arm around Alice's shoulder.

The White Knight gave a triumphant "Ha ha!" while throwing his fist into the air.

"Can I get that hug _now_?" Hatter wheedled in a husky voice. He leaned down to place a small kiss on the top of Alice's ear.

She twisted around in his arms, her dark blue eyes swimming with a cavalcade of emotions. "Oh, I can do better than that." Reaching up to wind her hands around his neck, she yanked him down to crush his lips against her lips in a kiss of victory that was not chaste in the least.

So, it was not a hug, but Hatter was not one to complain. Neither was his body, for that matter. As exhausted and wracked with pain as it was, it responded to Alice's kiss and the feel of her body pressed up against it with fervor. It wiped away any shred of doubt and jealousy he had grappled with earlier upon seeing her embrace with Jack. His hands traveled up over the gentle swell of her hips, tracing the inner curvature of her narrow waist before brushing alongside her breasts. A pleasant tremor ran through his body.

"Ahem," Charlie interrupted.

The two pulled apart, somewhat out of breath. Alice's face, already flushed, deepened its rosy plume when she looked over at Charlie, who was grinning at the pair in a slightly smug manner.

"Sorry, Charlie," Alice stammered, her hand flying up to her slightly swollen lips.

"Ah, no need to apologize, my lady. It gladdens my heart to see young love, blooming like a flower," the old knight replied, that smug smirk still plastered onto his features. He bent over to retrieve his fallen sword. The Suits must have taken the sword Hatter had used in that ill-fated rescue attempt, but Charlie had access to many weapons, as was quite obvious. "You will treat the lady honorably, Harbinger." That remark was emphasized with the tip of the knight's sword, being pointed in Hatter's direction.

The younger man gulped. Alice merely giggled. At least Charlie only used swords. Alice's father knew how to use a gun. The thought made the blood drain from his face. _Bloody hell, I'm doomed._

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How much longer do you think they'll be able to hold out, hehe? For more information on the story's progress and on sequels—also possibly a prequel with Alice as a Potential Slayer in Sunnydale—check out my profile!

Oh, and in answer to one reviewer's question about some possible Hatter/Alice lemon scenes, I was planning on doing a little side-along M-rated series. Of course, I will have the, uh, "citrusy" more tame versions integrated into the main story.

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!


	29. The Aftermath

Sorry this one took longer than the others. My darling boyfriend came to visit me and I devoted all my time to him since I don't get to do that as often as I would like. I'm in the process of convincing him to wear porkpie hats hehe.

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**Chapter XXVIII: **The Aftermath

Alice grimaced as the nurse at the Hospital of Dreams tightened the bandages wrapped around her midsection. They were to bind and cushion her ribs, four of which were fractured and two heavily bruised. The laceration she had received from the jabberwock pit two days before was almost completely healed. Unfortunately, it looked as if Alice was going to have yet another scar to add to her collection. Slayers were fast healers, but their skin scarred just as easily as a normal person's.

"Too tight?" the nurse asked.

Alice shook her head. She had been X-rayed and even had a CT scan at the urging of her father to assess the damage to her head after having it slammed into the pavement on the rooftop of the hospital. Luckily, there was no skull fracture, only a mild concussion. They cleaned the wound at the back of her scalp with some saline (or, rather, what she assumed to be saline) and applied some antiseptic ointment to it. They even gave her a full physical assessment just to make sure there was no brain damage. Her palms had been slathered with the same healing ointment as they had used on her scalp and then swathed in bandages. She had nearly forgotten about the abrasions on her palms, yet another souvenir from her confrontation with Mad March. As for the cut on her cheek, they had applied a butterfly bandage to bridge the flesh, though it had already begun to close on its own. They had trouble believing her when she had told them she had received the cut that very day.

All in all, she regarded the entire affair with bemusement. She and Hatter had both been extremely reluctant to return to the Hospital of Dreams. But her father insisted that she, Hatter, and Charlie should all receive medical attention. Evidently, the _hospital _part of the title did hold some truth, for not only did it serve as a sanctuary for those who had become addicted to oyster emotions, but it also had facilities for treating more traditional injuries and illnesses. As it turned out, Wonderland's medical facilities and protocol were eerily similar to those back in her world. In fact, some of their equipment seemed even more advanced. _And yet they don't have the most basic of birth control devices? Really?_

"So, can I go see how my friends are doing?" she inquired, failing to keep the impatience from her tone. Once they had arrived, she, Hatter, and Charlie had been immediately separated by a bevy of nurses and orderlies shoving wheelchairs at them. Word of their arrival had been sent ahead and the newly crowned King of Hearts had ordered that they were to be_ extremely_ well cared for.

"Alice, sweetheart, why don't you rest?" her father urged. He was sitting in a little black chair by the doorway holding an ice pack to his bruised neck.

"But I just want to make sure they're okay," Alice said, shooting her father a beseeching look. She knew there was more to Hatter's injuries than just the few "cuts and bruises" he had claimed. There had been a slightly appalling amount of blood coating the side of his face and neck. And Charlie had been knocked unconscious by a grenade blast. Even if he had appeared more or less unhurt, he could have received internal injuries.

"If you want, I can go find out for you, but your father is right. You should stay put for now," the nurse said kindly. She fluffed up Alice's pillow and then motioned for the girl to lie back. Alice sighed heavily and figured she may as well humor the well-meaning woman. Besides, these beds seemed to be about twice as comfortable as the hospital beds in her world.

_You know you're a way too frequent hospital patient when you start critiquing and comparing the comfort level of the beds,_ she wryly thought to herself.

While the nurse left to go inquire after the well-being of Charlie and Hatter, Alice's father pulled his chair up next to the bed. A strange silence arose between father and daughter. It was almost as if, with the threat of imminent peril out of the way, they did not exactly know what to say to one another. Alice knew her father would eventually start pelting her with questions, questions she was not precisely certain on how to answer.

"So, um, the oysters will be all right at Diamond Manor?" Alice asked after some time. "Ugh, I have to stop calling them that. Stupid Wonderland lingo is rubbing off on me," she then added in a grumble.

"For the moment. It's the best we can do under the circumstances," her father replied, his tone weary and guilt-ridden. She knew he took a rather unfair share of the blame for the plight of her—_their_—people on his shoulders.

Diamond Manor was the ancestral estate belonging to the duchess, whom Alice had learned was Ilaena Diamond, last surviving heir to the Duchy of Diamonds. She had graciously offered up the place as a sanctuary for the oysters. The magnanimous act had taken everyone, Jack included, by surprise. But it had been necessary to find a haven to temporarily house the oysters, not so much for the sake of comfort but for the matter of their safety. Hatter had warned them about his former patrons. They were going to be experiencing some intense withdrawal and once word leaked out that there were unfettered oysters outside the confines of the casino, the situation could rapidly decline into outright chaos.

"Returning them back to their homes and families won't be an easy matter," her father continued in a subdued voice. "But I am determined to set things right."

Alice nodded in understanding. All those people had been abducted from different times and different places, and no one had thought to keep a record of such details. There had been no rhyme or reason, no pattern to their abductions as there apparently had been with her father. No contingency plan had ever been established in the event that the oysters were to be sent back to their world. No one had ever anticipated needing to send them back. She did not fully understand the dynamics of traveling between her world and Wonderland, but she had learned that, while there was only one Looking Glass on this side, there were many in her world. All of these portals were linked to this single, master Looking Glass.

"I guess this means you won't be coming home anytime soon?" Alice said dolefully.

Her father looked up at her, his hazel eyes tortured. "I'm afraid not, Jellybean. But, I promise, once I set things right here with the oysters and with the people here, I will come home," he assured her, reaching out to squeeze one of her bandaged hands.

Alice frowned. "It's going to take a long time for this kingdom to heal after what the Queen of Hearts did. Are you really gonna stick around until everything's all better?"

"Oh, no," her father said, shaking his head. "But I do want to help make the path a little…smoother. The patients here who have been consumed by oyster emotions are only the tip of the iceberg. I at least need to help establish better treatment methods. Please understand, sweetie," he implored, having noticed the crestfallen expression on Alice's face, "I created a lot of this mess. I have to do my part to clean it up."

Alice knew from firsthand experience that, with every victory, there was a huge mess to contend with in its wake. Wonderland had been stewing in a pot of misery for decades. Overthrowing the Queen of Hearts was just a start to unwinding the tangled thread of problems which entrapped this kingdom and its people. She could definitely say she did not envy Jack. He had a monumental undertaking as this kingdom's new ruler ahead of him.

"When did _you_ want to return, Alice?" her father asked. There were more silent questions roving about in his eyes, but he did not ask them. Perhaps he was waiting to hear her answer to this one first.

This particular question made her heart ache, and the reason behind that ache was currently absent from the room. Her throat suddenly felt constricted and she swallowed to alleviate the feeling. "Um, I don't know. I suppose it'll have to be soon. I've been gone, what…three or four days now?" It was curiously hard to measure the length of time she had spent in Wonderland. So much had happened in such a short amount of time that her perception was skewed.

To her utter shock, her father started to chuckle. "Oh, don't worry about that, Jellybean. The Looking Glass functions in the dimension of time as well as space."

"Eh?" Alice asked in confusion.

"What I mean is, we can calibrate the Looking Glass's trajectory to send you back to the same day and relatively the same hour that you went through it in the first place," her father clarified.

It took a few moments to properly absorb the significance of those words. When it did, she cocked an eyebrow and just said, "Huh. Well that's good to know." Inside she was feeling somewhat duped, as she had spent a good deal of time worrying about how her prolonged absence was affecting her mother and her sister Slayers only to find that she had worried needlessly.

"You don't even want to know how that's possible?" her father asked with a raised eyebrow.

Alice shrugged. "I'm sure it has something to do with a bunch of words I won't understand. Physics and quantum mechanics type stuff…" _or just magic. _

"Of course, your body will still physically age," he warned her, possibly sensing she might contemplate spending an extended amount of time in Wonderland for various reasons.

"Of course," Alice repeated in a distracted manner.

"Alice," her father began, his voice sounding unsure, "does your mother know about…ehm…the things you're able to do?"

When she dared to meet her father's gaze, she found no reproach there, merely curiosity and concern. Still, a sense of guilt speared her nonetheless. Even her own Slayer brethren thought it odd she kept her job secret from her mother. "No," she finally admitted.

Her father studied her quietly for a few moments before speaking again. "I don't suppose you want to tell me, then, do you?"

Again, there was no accusation or even the slightest bit of demanding to his tone. The quiet, level manner in which he posed his questions cut to the quick though. She had told Hatter the truth even when she had not known him for a full day. Of course, there had been some extenuating circumstances leading up to that confession. Still, this was her father, even if she had not seen him in eleven years. She felt like she owed him the truth. _And if I owe him the truth, I definitely owe Mom the truth…fuck me._

"It's not that," she said quietly. "There's just a lot more to it than the fact that I have super strength and all that."

The nurse who had left earlier to find out how Charlie and Hatter were doing returned at that moment, temporarily suspending the conversation. The woman smiled brightly at Alice, which made the girl's heart leap. Surely she would not be smiling if the news was bad. "Your friends are fine, Miss Hamilton. Mr. Hatter had some minor cuts, bruises, and burns, but they patched him up. As for your knight friend…"

Alice's eyes widened in horror and she interrupted the nurse, "Wait, wait, Hatter had some burns? How in the hell did he get burns?"

The nurse just shook her head. "I don't know, Ma'am, but they're minor, I assure you."

"Dad," Alice said, noticing her father's uncomfortable expression, "how did he get the burns?"

Robert sighed. "The Tweedles were using a device that looked like an electric cattle prod when I found him," he informed her somberly.

Alice clenched her fist, ignoring the sting which arose. "Those sons of bitches," she fumed.

"They're dead," her father said. "Both of them. So, don't worry about it. He's fine."

That did little to appease the irate Slayer, who was filled with rage and guilt that such a thing had befallen her companion. As if she did not feel guilty enough for everything she had cost Hatter, he had been tortured all because he had tried to rescue her from the clutches of the Suits. If he had only stayed behind in the Kingdom of the Knights, he would never have had to suffer so. _But then you may have never toppled the house of cards, literally and figuratively, _a voice reminded her. She was forced to concede that, without Hatter, she would never have been able to do what she had done back at the casino. He had given her the strength she needed to carry out the grim task of taking down the Queen of Hearts and freeing the oysters.

The nurse fussed over Alice after seeing how distressed she was over learning of Hatter's burns. In an effort to cheer her up, she told the girl about how Charlie had received only a mild concussion and some bruises. Apparently Charlie and Hatter were also sharing the same hospital room for the night, which did make Alice chuckle a little.

How desperately she wanted to see Hatter. He had been out of her sight for little more than an hour and she was already missing him intensely. Just thinking about him made her body burn fiercely, but in a very pleasant way. How odd that he could incite such contradicting reactions from her ranging from a peaceful sense of calm to a raging, passionate inferno. But thinking of him and how much she ached to be near him also forced her to confront the troubling notion of returning home and leaving him behind. Her heart twisted in agony at the thought of being without him. Even her stomach felt queasy at the notion. How was she going to go through with it? _But I can't stay here. I just don't belong here…Mom, all my friends, my job…I can't just abandon those. _

Tears sprang to her eyes and she hastily turned away from her father in an attempt to hide them.

"Alice, honey, what's wrong?" Robert asked in concern.

She tried to quell the sobs which sent tremors through her body. "Nothing," she choked out completely unconvincingly.

"Hatter is going to be fine," her father said, mistaking the young man's injuries as the cause of her sudden onrush of tears.

"I know," she stammered, wiping at her eyes. _But I don't know if I will be._

Her father's hands hovered around her, his fingers close to her shoulders but not quite touching them. He appeared uncertain as to whether or not he should try to hug her. Alice wondered if it was the years of separation and memory loss which prompted the uncertainty or the uncanny abilities she had demonstrated. She hoped for the former. She feared it was the latter.

"If I understand correctly, this boy was the proprietor of the queen's most profitable tea outlet. And, yet, he was also a Resistance member?" Robert questioned her.

That was information Alice was almost certain her father already knew. Why he was questioning her about it was somewhat mystifying. "Yeah, he ran the Tea House. And he also smuggled food, information, and supplies to refugees and Resistance fighters," she explained.

Her father pressed his fingertips together in front of his face, his brow crinkling as he descended into deep thought. "How did you two meet?"

Alice blinked. "When I first got here to Wonderland. Some random guy dressed up in a slicker brought me to him," she recounted.

"And that was a few days ago?"

"Um…yeah," Alice said slowly, her eyes narrowing.

Robert was quiet for a moment, stroking his beard pensively. "You two seem rather…ahem…close for having met such a short time ago," he commented mildly. No doubt the rather intimate embrace and passionate kiss the two had shared was on his mind. Alice felt her cheeks grow warm.

The girl shifted uncomfortably, not particularly caring for the direction their conversation appeared to be headed. "Yeah, well, we've been through a lot in that short amount of time."

Her father nodded. "Oh, yes, I know that. He seems to care about you an awful lot. In fact…" his sentence cut off, a troubled expression bringing deeper creases to the man's already furrowed brow.

After a beat, Alice grew impatient. "In fact what?"

When her father looked up at her, there was a strange, conflicted gleam to his hazel eyes. "Jellybean, what are your feelings for this young man?"

The question completely took her aback. On a subliminal level she had known she would have to answer for the kiss she had shared with Hatter right before her father's eyes. But so many other matters had taken precedence that the issue had just been pushed aside. And, how, exactly, could she answer that question? There appeared to be no words adequate enough to encompass what she felt for Hatter. Certainly there appeared to be none to justify how she had developed such strong feelings in the span of only a few days. Wonderland time did not have the same feel to it as the flow of time in her world even though the physical passage of time appeared more or less the same.

"I…I never would have made it this far without him," she said softly. "He took a bullet for me; he protected me and helped me at the risk of his life and reputation. He rescued me from the Tweedles and then tried to save me again when we got captured by Mad March. He's stood by me through everything even when I don't think I particularly deserved it. He's been the truest friend I've ever had…"

Her father held up a hand to interrupt her. "Yes, he has done extraordinary things and I am very grateful to him for all that he's done for you. But that does not answer my question." His tone was not stern, not quite, but there was an implacable ring to it.

Alice looked down at her bandaged hands, thinking back on how Mad March's veiled threats towards Hatter had incited such a fierce protective rage in her. She would easily have let Mad March kill her before she would have let that bastard harm him. Her heart thumped wildly as she gazed up at her father, her blue eyes sparkling with wetness and her voice filled with wonder. "I'm in love with him, Daddy," she admitted, shaking her head.

Saying it aloud as if giving it substance and form lifted some strange weight off her soul. It was a fact she had been hanging onto for a while, but had been too afraid to acknowledge. It flew in the face of everything she had experienced with the opposite sex in the past. She had never been in love before. It was something she had very nearly scoffed at, though that was likely just a shoddy defense mechanism to mask how much she wished for such a thing to happen. But she had always held back, walling off her precious heart in a parade of short-lived relationships.

But Hatter had somehow slipped through all those long-held defenses, chipped away at her self-imposed armor. She had even tried to run from it. That night she had decided to make her own way to the casino under the slumbering noses of Charlie and Hatter, she not just been running towards something. Alice had been running away from her growing feelings for the teashop owner. They had scared her, unnerved her with their intensity. Logic railed against it, but since when had the heart ever cared about logic? Buffy, the commander of the Slayers, had fallen for two vampires, which was certainly one of the most illogical things in the history of illogical things.

_Well, at least Hatter has a pulse,_ she found herself thinking.

Yes, Alice had run from those feelings, but that had failed to stem the tide. Besides, Hatter ran after her. No man had ever done that for her before.

"I love him," she repeated, more to herself than to her father. Her voice was filled with bemused conviction.

Robert regarded her with a crooked smile. "I figured as much."

At length, her father finally retired to his own bed, leaving Alice alone in the small hospital room. Pale beams of moonlight streamed from the bedside window. She gazed out the window, her eyes tilting up to the gibbous moon. Even though she was in a different world where there were no vampires and even though she was thoroughly wrung out with exhaustion and pain, there was still an instinctive thrumming in her blood, calling out for her to go into the night and hunt. This was the time when vampires and other supernatural creatures were at their most active, and so it was the time when Slayers had to be most active.

She knew she needed to sleep. Her body, as strong and preternaturally gifted as it was, still required adequate rest to heal itself. Alice drew the thick cotton blanket over body, easing herself down into the mattress without jostling her injured ribs. The doctor had offered the Wonderland equivalent to morphine, but when she told him he would have to administer at least twice the normal dose for a woman of her size and weight, he had looked at her as if she had grown two heads. Being too tired to argue the point, she had simply waved him off. Besides, the pain was tolerable.

Her head jerked up from the pillow when she heard a voice in the corridor outside her room. Though the door was closed and the voice was muffled, it was loud enough that she could understand perfectly. "Oi! I'm a friend, okay! I just wanted to see if she was all right. Bloody hell, you can put the gun away, mate!"

Alice's lips curled into a smile when she recognized Hatter's voice. He must have come across the Suit who had been assigned by Jack to be her bodyguard during her stay in the Hospital of Dreams. She did not know what the man thought of being forced to protect the woman who had single-handedly put a few of his comrades in hospital beds, but she could bet he did not appreciate the irony as much as she did.

She gingerly slipped off the bed and padded over to open the door. Both men turned at the sound and backed away from one another. The Suit's features smoothed into the typical granite-faced expression that she had come to associate with those men. Hatter's features lightened into a relieved smile upon seeing her.

"It's okay," she assured the Suit. "He can come in."

The Suit said nothing, but merely re-holstered his firearm and stepped back to resume his sentry position against the wall next to the door. Hatter sauntered up to the open door, throwing a triumphant smirk at the Suit before entering the room.

"We didn't get one of those," the young man noted with a raised eyebrow as Alice shut the door behind him.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Jack apparently insisted since I'm an oyster in a hospital full of people who got themselves hooked on oyster emotions. Precaution and all." She shrugged.

She reached out to flip on the lights. The fluorescent illumination startled her dark-accustomed eyes, but it enabled her to get a better look at Hatter. She wanted to truly see for herself that he was all right. The blood had been cleaned from his face and neck and butterfly bandages adorned a few of the cuts on his cheek and forehead. A nasty bruise on his left cheekbone was an angry shade of purple and maroon. She knew there was a similar, even more severe bruise probably afflicting his upper left pectoral muscle, just under his collarbone. That was where the bullet had struck the body armor that day down in the Great Library. His silk paisley shirt and leather jacket concealed that bruise from view, along with the burns she had not even known he had suffered.

She glided towards him, reaching up to lightly trace every single bruise and cut on his face. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

His hand wrapped around hers, pulling it down to his lips to bestow light kisses on the fingertips. "Don't be," he told her. "I'm not." He frowned at the bandages wrapping both her hands.

"I had a lot of skin ripped off the palms during my fun confrontation with Mad March on the rooftop here," she supplied.

Hatter hissed angrily. "I really wish killing him would have been a bit more painful…for him, of course." His dark brown eyes then drifted down towards her torso. "And your ribs? Not puncturing any vital organs, or anything?"

Alice snorted. "Well, if that had happened, I'm pretty sure I'd be sedated and in post-operative care at the moment. But, no, just four cracked ones and two bruised ones. They'll be mostly healed up by tomorrow evening."

"Ah, yes, you Slayer types heal up fast," Hatter remarked, his eyes restlessly traveling over her form, still clad in the Diamond dress. It reminded her that one of the first items on her agenda for the next day was to find that Diamond whom she had traded outfits with and get her own clothes back. She did kind of miss the velvet jacket Hatter had loaned her.

"Yeah," she replied, almost breathless at the way in which his chocolate eyes held her captive. "Kind of a necessity in our line of work."

His expression darkened for a brief instance at that comment. But then he drew her close, gently loping his arms around her and resting his chin on the crown of her head. It was almost as if the rest of the world was slowly dropping away into the distance, leaving nothing but Alice wrapped up in Hatter's embrace. She breathed his scent in, letting out a pleasant sigh.

"Sometimes I think this is all a dream," Hatter finally murmured, his breath tickling wisps of hair at the top of her head. "I've been too afraid to try to sleep, almost. I'm worried that when I wake up, you'll be gone and I'll be back in the casino."

Alice, who was caught up in thinking she was comfortable enough to fall asleep standing up, barely heard the comment. But she could sympathize. Everything that had happened seemed like a whirlwind of impossibilities. It was difficult for her to believe, at times, that this was all not some kind of fantastical dream. But here Hatter was before her, as real and solid as anything. Her heart surged jubilantly in his presence. If it was only a dream, she would be only too happy to never wake up.

"I know what you mean," she said quietly.

His hands drifted down her back, carefully grazing over her battered ribcage. Though there was a layer of fabric and bandages separating her bare skin from his fingers, she felt a trail of heat follow in his wake. In spite of the exhaustion gripping her body, that heat filled her to the core.

"So, ehm, I'm sharing a room with Charlie," Hatter announced.

Alice glanced up at him, noting the mischievous twinkle in those dark brown eyes. His fingers, meanwhile, were tracing circles on the small of her back right at the very crest of her bottom. The caresses were sending delightful shivers up her spine. "Yes, I heard. How's that going for you?"

The young man rolled his eyes. "I'm not entirely convinced Jack didn't purposely see to the room arrangements himself. That old knight has been singing and chatting in his sleep ever since he nodded off a few hours ago. It's driving me mad."

Alice tried to suppress the giggle which bubbled up her throat, but it came out anyway. Hatter's response was to slide his hands down her backside, gripping the backs of her thighs and lifting her up off her feet. Her womb practically quivered in anticipation and her brain buzzed with an onslaught of chemicals. A few steps to the bed and Alice was promptly, but tenderly, deposited on the mattress, her legs instinctively winding around Hatter's hips.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you, Miss Hamilton. You see, I find myself in need of different sleeping accommodations," Hatter informed her, trying his best to sound stern and serious.

"Oh, really?" Alice replied huskily. She gasped when his hands started lazily stroking a path up her skirt. How was it possible he could arouse her so easily and quickly when her body had endured such abuses? Moreover, he had to be as exhausted as she was, but that did not appear to deter his libido in the slightest. From the position she was in, she could feel his arousal up against her inner thigh and it initiated a very distinct pulsing sensation between her legs. _Oh, not good. We have to stop. Oh, dear god, what is he doing with that hand?_

"Mm hmm," he said, his eyes boring into hers, darkened with lust and love. His hands were coming dangerously close to the thin barrier of her panty line, little more than satin and lace. She wished he would just slip his fingers under the panties and slake part of the driving urge awakening within her. She wanted his fingers—(well, honestly, she wanted a different part of his anatomy)—to slide up within her aching, slick core. But, the part of her mind that was still capable of lucid thought, reminded her that if he were to do such a thing, he would light a fire which would not be easily doused. And they still had no form of protection. Not to mention they were in a hospital room with a man standing right outside the door and her father in the adjoining room next to them. Not exactly the best environment for consummation. _Not to mention you have some broken ribs which might make lovemaking a little…uncomfortable. _

"Oh, Hatter, you have to stop," she moaned reluctantly. His fingers had begun to trace along the edge of her panties, grazing over the juncture of thigh and groin.

"I know," he mumbled, equally reluctant. "It's just so hard."

"Well, yes, I can feel that," she replied deviously.

Hatter smirked at her. "You are a bad girl, Alice." He slowly slid his hands out from under her skirt, but they still remained on her bare thighs.

"Hey, I'm not the one that started this foreplay," she retorted.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah you did," he told her saucily.

"How so?"

"By dressing up in that skimpy little outfit," he pointed out with a smarmy smirk plastered on his face. "Though, I must say, I do miss the blue dress, especially when it's very wet."

Alice just laughed and shook her head, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Hatter's lips.

"So, you'll be mostly healed up tomorrow, eh?" he asked mildly. His implication behind that innocently posed question was not missed.

"Yes, _I_ will be," Alice replied. Her eyes flitted down to his chest where his jacket and shirt hid his burns from view.

"Oh, well, I just have some cuts and bruises. Nothing so fancy as broken ribs and brain damage," Hatter said dismissively.

"Cuts and bruises and…burns, apparently," she pointed out sharply. Hatter shifted guiltily. Then she realized what else he had said about her. "Hey! I do not have brain damage! The doctor said so." She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know. Seems to me it takes a fair amount of brain damage to pull off some of the crazy stunts you did," he remarked dryly, his eyes dancing with humor.

Alice laughed and rolled her eyes. "Well that's a little pot calling the kettle black, don't you think? I oughta to smack you for riding in on Guinevere swinging that sword around and nearly getting yourself killed." She shuddered at the memory of Hatter being pulled from the horse. She had been terrified the Suits or Mad March would have killed him right then and there. So she had thrown herself into the fray without hesitation, which, ironically, had nearly gotten her killed.

Hatter brushed away a few errant strands of dark hair which had fallen in front of her eyes. He regarded her with silent tenderness before saying in a voice roughened by emotion, "I never said I didn't have some kind of brain damage."

There was so much Alice wanted to say, but some nameless fear held her tongue. It kept her from spilling out the depth of her feelings to this man. If she brought up that particular subject, it would inevitably lead to far less pleasant subjects. Lying unspoken between them was the knowledge that she would have to leave Wonderland at some point. She wanted to postpone that conversation for as long as possible. All she wanted now was to bask in Hatter's presence without worrying about someone or something trying to kill them.

"You still need a place to sleep?" she asked.

Hatter fervently nodded his head. "Yes. Happen to know where I might find one?" His dark brown eyes flitted just behind her, centering on her own bed.

She smirked. "Well, there might be a spare bed in my dad's room," she teased.

"Oh, you're a laugh riot, you are," he mumbled.

Alice snickered as she regretfully unhooked her legs from around Hatter's waist and made room for him on the bed. Hatter kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket. The hospital bed was narrow, much smaller compared to that old bed in the barn back at the Kingdom of the Knights. But it mattered not for these two. Their bodies molded together seamlessly underneath the cotton blanket. The pain of her various injuries seemed to miraculously dull with Hatter curled up against her back. The warmth of his body seeped into hers and she felt the tension slowly drain from sore muscles.

"So, is this like a normal day at the office for you?" Hatter asked after a while. His hand was moving in soft strokes up and down her arm.

Alice smiled drowsily. "Well, normally, I don't have much to do with revolutions and overthrowing a government. It's usually a straightforward: find evil creatures, kill evil creatures, and then take a nice hot bubble bath."

Though she could not see his face, she could imagine the intrigue lighting up in his eyes. "I don't see how this situation does not merit a bubble bath," he remarked.

She laughed softly before letting out a protracted yawn. "You were amazing today, by the way. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you," she commented, rolling over slightly so she could face him.

Hatter scoffed. "Oh yes, I was brilliant, I was. Barging in swinging around a weapon I don't even know how to use like some half-wit. And I don't think we need reminding about how incredibly ineffective that rescue attempt was," he griped in self-deprecation.

"Well, when you think about it, your intent was to get me out of the clutches of the Suits. And, well, it worked, didn't it?" she pointed out.

Hatter frowned as he mulled that point over. "Well, how about you not fall off a cliff and scare me to death next time you need rescuing?"

Alice nodded tiredly, her eyes flickering open and shut. Whereas sleep had been elusive before, it was now starting to gain more ground. The girl snuggled up closer to Hatter, pressing her face into the softness of his silk shirt.

"I don't like that subject, anyway. Can we talk about the prospect of bubble baths, now?" Hatter inquired roguishly. "Alice?"

Alice did not answer, for she was already fast asleep and lost amidst a swirl of dreams.

* * *

She had somehow ended up back in the Tulgey Wood. Alice blinked in surprise at her decidedly more arboreal surroundings, not overly alarmed by her change of location, but still rather confused. Thick trunks wound up from the forest floor and towered above the petite Slayer, their verdant leaves swaying in the gentle breeze. The gibbous moon peaked through the thick canopy of boughs, its illumination taking on a slight purple-red tinge. _Odd, I don't remember how I got here._

"That's because you aren't really here," a disembodied voice drawled. It carried no flavor of masculine or feminine, thus making it unmistakable just who (or what) it belonged to.

"Oh, joy," Alice muttered in exasperation. "You again." She looked up towards the tree line and then all around her. There was no sign of the mystical and somewhat annoying feline. That was not altogether surprising. She had learned that this particular entity would show itself if and when it wished. "So, cutting into my dreams now, are we?"

She sensed more than heard the Cheshire materialize, no doubt floating in the air as was its wont. Turning towards her left, there was indeed the shape of a purple cat with vivid blue stripes and iridescent blue-green eyes hovering in mid-air. "Ah, yes, your psyche apparently had some rather naughty scenarios planned for the night, which I apologize for interrupting, but I desired an audience," it said, grinning widely.

Alice clenched her fists, feeling her cheeks warm with the heat of anger and mortification driven together. Was that thing seriously telling her it had knowingly disrupted a sex dream? She did not even remember having a sex dream for it to interrupt!

The Cheshire cackled in its maddeningly obnoxious manner. "I'm joking, Alice. Really, my dear, take some of Hatter's advice and lighten up!"

She huffed in aggravation. "What do you want, then? Don't tell me you have some other task or quest for me. Hatter told me what happens to those you apparently dump those things on and I'm not looking to push my luck."

The being waved a fat, purple paw in a dismissive manner, scoffing at the comment. "Oh, no, nothing of the sort, but, in all honesty, your boy was being a bit over-dramatic. I just wanted to congratulate you on your success. You did very well in bringing down the Queen of Hearts. Wonderland was sick for a very long time under her reign. Now, with her gone, it can heal and return to its former glory."

Alice cocked her head to the side, her brow raised in skepticism. "That's it? You infiltrated my dreams just to give me a pat on the back?"

The cat-god-thing stared at her, its eyes so bright in the darkness of the forest it was nearly physically painful to look upon them. "Mostly, yes," it said noncommittally. "Among other things."

Alice sighed. "Other things, of course," she repeated. "What was in it for you, anyway? I mean, why does it matter who is in power to you?"

The Cheshire dropped to the ground, its claws extending from its forepaws to knead at the grassy ground. "The queen subverted the natural order by bringing people from your world here and pumping their emotions into Wonderlanders. The realm was not in balance and balance, little Slayer, is of the utmost import. And, as I told you, I have rules of my own to abide by. I can do very little to affect mortal affairs directly. I must depend on others, such as yourself, to shake things up."

"Shake things up" was putting it lightly, in Alice's opinion, but she supposed she could see the Cheshire's point. As a Slayer, she was already an instrument of higher powers, acting to counter the imbalance posed by the creation of vampires. That did not mean she liked being used in the schemes of gods, and it was beginning to sound more and more like that was what had occurred.

"You were here for a reason, Alice. And you fulfilled that reason," the Cheshire told her, its tone uncharacteristically somber. "You have reunited with your long-lost father and freed your people from a fate which, on some levels, would have been worse than death." The being nuzzled its wet snout against her bare legs, purring loudly. It was very surreal to see it act in the capacity of a normal, domesticated cat. She only hoped it would not start licking its crotch again.

"Yes, which means I can go home, right? I mean, you weren't planning on me sticking around for the clean-up, were you?" she asked hesitantly.

The Cheshire tilted its feline head up to peer at her, its eyes boring straight to her very soul. "No, that task lies with others. But you are welcome to stay in Wonderland if that is your wish."

She had not known she would need the Cheshire's permission to stay in Wonderland and she appreciated the offer. But she could not stay here. As beautiful and enchanting as some of Wonderland had been, this was just not her home, not her world. Her mother, her friends, and her job awaited her back on Earth. But that still left her with the dilemma over what to do about Hatter and what lay between them. It would be no simple matter to just leave him behind. She was sharing her bed with him for the second time and she had indulged in what was definitely borderline R-rated foreplay. If she was just going to leave within a few days' time, would it not make more sense to cut things off at friendship? It was not fair to either of them to carry on in the way they had been doing. All she could foresee was heartbreak. Heartbreak she did not think she could recover from.

"Oh, poor girl, I will tell you that the whole falling in love part was definitely your own doing. You and that boy. I had nothing to do with that," the Cheshire cut in, sounding somewhat defensive.

Alice sighed in chagrin. The Cheshire's ability to effortlessly see into her thoughts had completely slipped her mind.

"Those were some of the other things I wanted to discuss. As a favor to you, my dear, I will impart some wisdom as only infinitely wise beings such as myself can give," it said, puffing out its chest with self-importance.

"Oh, so you're an expert on dating now, are you?" Alice sniped in ill humor. "So, what, are we supposed to try to keep up a…trans-dimensional relationship? I just really don't think that'll work. Especially not with my job." She turned away from the being, overcome with the need to weep out her dismay and frustration over life's many injustices.

"First off," the Cheshire said in a mildly reproving voice, "start with actually discussing the matter with him. For, I assure you, it has been weighing on his mind as much as it has weighed on yours. It grieves him more than you'll know. Secondly, have either of you even admitted how you feel? Truly admitted it?"

Alice shook her head. "Not with…words." It was easy to throw around the term "I love you". She remembered how Jack had said it to her back at the Hospital of Dreams when he had taken her to meet Caterpillar. He had spoken it as if he had been ordering a sandwich at the deli. And he certainly had not done much in showing how much he loved her. But Hatter, she realized, had basically worn the emotion on his sleeve in every action towards her for the past two days.

"True," the Cheshire acceded. "Actions do speak louder than words, but that does not diminish the importance of the words."

"Okay," Alice said, throwing her hands in the air. "I'll tell him, but that does not solve the problem of me having to go back home."

The Cheshire disappeared and then reappeared upon Alice's shoulders, its purrs rumbling through its fat body and its tail once again loping around her neck. "I'm afraid that is up to you two to solve, but you've both proven to be of more than adequate intelligence for mortals. I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Thanks," Alice mumbled, "I think."

"You're welcome," the being replied brightly.

The Cheshire leapt off her shoulders to land lightly upon the ground and daintily licked at one of its large purple forepaws. Alice just shook her head in exasperation at this being which insisted on behaving like a cat when she knew it was anything but. Even in this dream world, her Slayer senses were as keen as ever. She could feel the power roiling off of this being in waves.

"What are you anyway?" she asked. In her mind, she saw the Cheshire as some kind of a god. Hatter had not really confirmed for her whether or not she was right.

The creature did not answer for a very long time, merely continuing to lick its paws and then moving onto its face. She had about given up on receiving an answer from the capricious being until it turned its blue-green gaze onto her. Its mouth stretched out into a wide, toothy grin and it levitated into the air before her. "I'm the Cheshire," it said simply before disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

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Ah, I just love having this creature mess with Alice. It's so much fun.

Don't worry. Alice isn't off the hook with explaining certain things to her father. Still a few more chapters to go before we can call this finished, so stay tuned, my dear readers!

I welcome all kinds of feedback!


	30. Awkward Conversations with Royal People

Hello all! Sorry this was a bit delayed. You can all blame general and organic chemistry for that. I want to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing and extend a welcome to some of the newcomers who have recently added this story to their alerts and/or favorites lists! Again, I urge all those who are reading but not reviewing to send some feedback if at all possible!

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**Chapter XXIX: **Awkward Conversations with Royal People

"Miss Hamilton?"

Alice blinked the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and, slowly, the buxom nurse's form became less of a white, spectral blur and more of a solid figure. She and Hatter had arisen from their rest only minutes before. Luckily, no one had disturbed them throughout the remainder of the night. She was not sure how her father would react to the fact that the young man had shared her bed last night in the room right next to his. Her father had not seen her since she was ten years old and, thus, had not been around when Alice eventually began to notice the appeal of the opposite sex.

"Um, yes?" Alice replied, running her hands through her tangled locks. The dark hair was matted and feeling somewhat greasy, giving her the message that she would desperately need to pencil a shower into her schedule at some point in the day.

"These clothes arrived here for you this morning," the nurse informed her. In one arm, she held Alice's blue dress and Hatter's purple coat, neatly folded. In the other arm, Alice's purple boots were dangling in the air, all polished to a shine the young Slayer had not seen since the day she had purchased them.

Alice was pleasantly surprised at the sight of her clothes. She had thought she would be embarking on a mad search for the Diamond girl whom she had switched outfits with yesterday. Well, that was one item she could cross off her to-do list.

"Wow, thanks," she said in surprise. "I've been missing those." She gratefully accepted the clothes and boots.

The nurse's eyes darted behind Alice to where Hatter was standing, his hair most likely more mussed up than usual after having just woken up; his jacket, hat, and shoes mysteriously missing. A slight flush crept up the back of the girl's neck as she wondered what assumptions the nurse was making. The older woman did not make a comment, but there was the hint of a small, knowing smile dimpling her cheeks. She then inclined her head towards Alice and turned smartly on her heels, closing the door on her way out.

"Well that was nice of…whoever it was who sent those," observed Hatter.

"Yeah," Alice replied absently. She sniffed the clothes, finding that they must have been recently laundered due to the clean floral scent they exuded. "They've been washed, too." Hatter had raised a good point, however. Who had been thoughtful enough to go through the trouble to find the Diamond girl wearing Alice's clothes, wash them, and then have them delivered to the Hospital of Dreams? She could not picture Jack, with all the responsibilities he must find himself swamped with, doing such a thing.

With the arrival of fresh clean clothes, Alice decided she may as well take a quick shower. Hatter, true to form, offered to join her.

"Hmmm," Alice pondered aloud, quite enjoying the picture that painted in her mind. A dripping, wet, completely nude Hatter was a spectacular way to start the day. But showering together was bound to lead down more dangerous roads. And, as the Cheshire had advised her, there were issues that needed to be resolved between them before things progressed. "I'll have to take a rain check on that one," she apologetically declined.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to give your father a reason to unman me or something," Hatter said, cracking a wry smile.

"My dad thinks very highly of you, actually. I've think you've probably scored up enough brownie points to have some immunity in that regard," she remarked.

"You think?" Hatter asked, his voice sounding serious and hopeful. It warmed her heart to think that he sought her father's approval.

_We will figure this out,_ she thought to herself. _Come hell or high water. I am not giving him up._

"Listen, Hatter," Alice said, her voice low and serious enough to cause a troubled expression to ripple over her companion's features, "after we get discharged or whatever, I think we need to…" her sentence was drowned out by the loud knocks at the door.

"Alice? It's me," called out her father.

Groaning with frustration, the girl walked over to open the door. Much to her and Hatter's surprise, her father was accompanied by a man dressed in black robes, a silver club medallion hanging from his neck, and a tri-lobed, black hat atop his head. At first, Alice thought it was the Minister of Clubs—a man who, up until late yesterday, she had been referring to as the bowler hat man until she had learned his true title. But this man was of a shorter, stockier build than the tall, lanky form of the minister and his face was not quite so angular.

"Miss Hamilton," the man greeted, sweeping an ostentatious bow before her. She was not quite sure how to react to the sudden show of deference. Hopefully, no one expected her to extend her hand to be kissed as if she were some grand dignitary.

"Alice, this is Number Nine," her father supplied.

She felt Hatter subtly move himself closer to her. No doubt he did not fully trust any of the queen's former servants. Alice eyed the man, whose dark eyes seemed to regard her with a small degree of apprehension. He seemed perfectly content to keep a few feet separating them, and had his hands clasped together in front of him. She sensed this fellow was of little threat to her, but she appreciated her companion's protective gesture all the same.

"Um, hello," Alice replied.

"Miss Hamilton, His Majesty has sent me to inquire after your welfare and to request your presence at Diamond Manor as soon as you are able. He wants to hear a full accounting of the events leading up to the queen," here the man stumbled, "ehm, _former_ queen's overthrow. Most especially how you apparently survived a fall from the very top level of the city."

Hatter made a peculiar hissing sound behind her. Without even turning to look at him, she could tell he was probably gritting his teeth, biting back remarks he wanted to make about Wonderland's new ruler. For her part, she had a few things she wanted to say. For starters, it sounded as if Jack was not so much requesting as subtly ordering her presence. That rankled her, seeing as how she was not really a citizen of this realm and, therefore, had no reason to give obeisance to its monarch. She also could not help but wonder if there were other reasons Jack wanted to speak to her. He was probably just as curious as her father as to how a girl as small as her could toss grown men twice her size into the air as if they were featherweights.

"Alice," her father interjected, "I know you probably had other plans for today, but I think it would be best if you got this over with. The new king needs to know all he can if he is to address the issue of what to do with his mother and this new kingdom he's inherited."

Leave it to her father to phrase it in such a way that refusing the request made her seem like a vindictive, spiteful child. Alice rubbed at her suddenly aching neck and groaned. She had wanted an opportunity to speak with Hatter, preferably somewhere private with food involved—for her stomach had started to growl hungrily. But it probably was better to just get the inevitably awkward conversation with her former lover over and done with. Logically, it made sense to settle things with Jack before she tried to start things with Hatter. She just resented the way in which he was asking her, by sending some twitchy lackey who looked about five seconds away from bolting. Sure, he was king and all, but he could at least have mustered up the cajones to speak to her himself.

"Okay, okay," she grumbled reluctantly. "Just let me shower and change first. Better try to look decent for _His Majesty_." The twitchy Number Nine's eyes flashed in alarm at her sarcastic use of the royal honorific, but he was apparently too afraid to rebuke her for it. Her father merely shook his head, letting out a resigned sigh.

When the two men left, with her father shooting Hatter a strange look, Alice turned to her decidedly less cheerful companion.

"Are you seriously going to go talk to him?" Hatter asked somewhat petulantly.

"Well, I am going to have to eventually talk to him. Jack and I have some…unfinished business," she explained.

"Yeah," Hatter muttered darkly, running his hand through his spiky, untidy hair. It did not take a genius to tell he was gripped with an irrational sense of jealousy. Alice was somewhat confounded by it, as she figured she had made it pretty clear things were over between her and Jack. "I just don't think he's quite figured out you're not his anymore."

"I know," said Alice, bobbing her head in agreement, "which is why we have to have the _talk_."

She could read the worry outlining his taut posture and his roiling dark brown eyes. He was worried she would be wooed by Jack and his newly elevated status.

"The _talk_?" Hatter arched his eyebrow quizzically. Alice wondered if this man had ever been in a genuine relationship. He was certainly no virgin, that much she could ascertain from the knowledgeable way in which he had comported himself during their make-out sessions. His carnal experience was embedded into his sensual demeanor. But sex and relationships did not always go hand in hand. She decided her questions on that particular matter would be saved for her upcoming conversation with him, which was now going to be occurring later than she had planned.

"Yeah, you know, the talk where we put everything on the table and we…well, I guess more I…make it clear that things are over and we can move on. I mean, I kinda already gave him the hint when we were making that trip to meet Caterpillar, but, uh, we didn't have a chance to talk much about it. It's not like I'm really looking forward to it. This kind of conversation is never really fun, but…it's necessary." She reflected on all the times she had been forced to engage in the _talk_, and found the number somewhat alarming for a girl who was not even twenty-two yet. _Yeesh._ _I guess Mom was right…I kind of do have some abandonment and commitment issues. _

Hatter let out a supremely morose sigh, reaching for his hat and squeezing the brim. Alice figured that hat served as more than a headpiece; it inexplicably seemed to serve as a source of comfort. "All right, love, go and have this _talk_ and don't let him mess with your head. Or me and my Sledgehammer may just forget that he's king."

Alice's eyes drifted to that abnormally strong right limb of his. Images of Mad March's head bursting into pieces rose up in her mind. She was very curious to learn the origins of such miraculous strength. That right limb had done damage even a Slayer had not been able to do. It was a humbling notion indeed.

"Now, now, let's not get you carted off to cool your heels with the former queen right at the start of the reign, mister," Alice chided, waggling her finger.

Hatter smiled weakly. "I guess I'll head over to my shop…or, rather, what's left of it. Clean things up," he said, looking down at himself. His silk shirt was ripped and there were some holes which were blackened around the edges, showing evidence of the burns which still lay hidden underneath the smooth fabric. "Maybe take a shower and change some clothes, myself."

He looked up at her and she felt her stomach churn at the storm in his eyes. There were so many things lying unspoken between them, and he was just as aware of them as she. But he would not bring them up now, not when she was soon to face her ex-boyfriend. His gaze held a promise, however, that she reciprocated. As soon as she had finished things with Jack, told the new king all the things she felt he needed to know, she would make her way to Hatter's side as soon as possible.

"Well, I, ehm, better get going. I suppose I should make sure Charlie's not causing a scene. He was terrorizing some of the male nurses last night," he told her, covering his forlorn expression with a brittle smile. "Though, somehow, he's charmed some of the female nurses. Guess the ladies love the knight in shining armor act even if the armor isn't all that shiny and the knight is completely off his rocker." His tone took on a strange blend of affection and exasperation.

Alice laughed at the image of Charlie chatting up some of the nurses. "Not to mention over a century old," she added drolly. "But I'm glad to hear he's none the worse for wear. Tell him hi for me, okay?"

"I will," Hatter assured her. His eyes ran up and down her form before he finally sighed and closed the distance between them, enveloping her in his arms. "Be careful, all right?" he urged her. "The queen probably still has supporters and, don't forget, some of the tea junkies will be out sniffing for juicy oysters. And none are juicier than you, love." He sealed his request with a chaste kiss.

The young Slayer smiled at his concern. No one had ever worried about her so much before, and she had thought such a thing would be annoying. But, from Hatter, she found it endearing. It showed just how much he cared for her, and she could not help but be somewhat pleased by it. "Oh, come on," she said dismissively, "what's the worst that could happen?"

Hatter brought his hand up to rest under his chin, pretending to stroke the stubble which was starting to stray into beard territory in deep thought. "Hmmm, let me think. What happened the last time you went off with Jack by yourself? What did that lead to?"

Alice rocked her head back, rolling her eyes. "Okay, okay, your point is well taken. I'll be careful, I promise."

She reluctantly steered him towards the door and sent him off with a breathtaking kiss brimming with all of her pent up need, desire, and love (not to mention topped off with a wicked amount of tongue). Hopefully, that would quash any lingering doubts he had about where she stood with him and Jack.

When he left, she quietly shut the door and leaned her frame against it, suddenly feeling quite weary. She was most definitely not looking forward to this meeting with Jack. _Where's a demon ambush when you need one? They help me avoid so many awkward situations…_

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_

There were few words Alice could dredge up to describe Diamond Manor, home of the duchess whom her ex-boyfriend had never saw fit to tell her he was engaged to. She had visited some sumptuous mansions in her world, not a few of them owned by the International Organization of Watchers and Slayers. None of them had managed to reach this level of elegance. The stonework was a pale, creamy color, which fairly dazzled in the mid-morning sunlight. The estate was furnished with verdant green hills speckled with trees and bushes, all seeming to have been placed purposefully in their spots. The fluted columns which lined the front of the manor house sparkled as if there were diamonds grafted into their construction. A wide, imposing set of stone steps led up to the large oaken doors. After the bleak modern style of the Happy Hearts Casino, she found the warm, simple elegance of Diamond Manor very much a relief.

A small cluster of people stood before the ascending staircase, awaiting their arrival. When Alice disembarked from the Scarab, she was more than a little taken aback to see who fronted the welcoming party. It was the mistress of the estate herself, Duchess Ilaena Diamond dressed in a shockingly modest dress of periwinkle blue. Her flaxen hair was pulled up into a complicated, braided bun, rather than left free to tumble in golden waves of her shoulders. Standing beside her was the Minister of Clubs, apparently trading in his pinched expression of dread for one of wary hopefulness. She supposed he had led a very stressful life, being one of the former queen's top servants, and, thus, held accountable for many responsibilities.

_My ex's fiancé is here to bring me to him…way to make this even more awkward_, she silently grumbled to herself. Swallowing her discomfort, the young Slayer adopted a steady, purposeful gait and schooled her expression to stoicism. Her nerves, however, were bundles of anxiety and guilt, though she knew that guilt was really not hers to bear. She had not really done this woman wrong. If she had known Jack had had a fiancé from the beginning, she would never have pursued a relationship with him. Alice Hamilton may have been many things, but a home wrecker was not one of them.

"Miss Hamilton," the minister greeted, formally inclining his head. She was ridiculously grateful he did not bow to her as the twitchy Number Nine had.

"Welcome to Diamond Manor," the duchess followed up, her tone neutral. Her green-hazel eyes regarded Alice with that same probing sense of curiosity, but lacking the malice and superiority one would expect. This woman was somewhat of an enigma—even to her own fiancé, as Jack had made apparent. If she felt any sort of ill will towards this "other woman", she was doing very well at masking it. Perhaps she was just saving her outburst of righteous anger for another time. But, then again, this was also the woman who had opened up her home to about a hundred foreigners at the drop of a hat.

"Thank you…" Alice trailed off, realizing she did not quite know how to address the woman. Using the "Your Grace" honorific as was due to one of ducal status did not feel right. Calling her "duchess" seemed somewhat crude, however, and she definitely did not feel as if she were on a first-name basis with the woman.

"I trust you were well taken care of at the Hospital of Dreams?" the duchess inquired. Gods, that woman had the ice queen persona down to the atom. It was no wonder Jack had believed her to be nothing more than a puppet of the queen. But there were subtle signs here and there that the duchess's mind was all her own, and she was content to keep her counsel.

"Well, the second time around, yes," replied the young Slayer, hit by a sudden urge to speak somewhat more brazenly.

A golden eyebrow arched; a flash of intrigue in those eyes of green and gold. "Yes, I would certainly hope so."

"The king wishes to speak with you," cut in the minister, his tone suggesting that they were dallying and it was not appreciated.

"Yes, I heard, hence, I'm here." Alice clapped her hands together in a show of mock anticipation. "So, take me to your leader." She then grimaced at her unintended pun. _Andrew would even rip on me for that lame one. _

The duchess and the minister led her through the stately hallways of the manor house. The décor of the interior proved to be just as wondrous and elegant, with the Diamond emblem subtly carved into the marble detail as a quiet, but constant, reminder of who ran the estate. There were quaint portraits of people, landscapes, and ethereal creatures Alice had no name for lining the walls. Servants dressed in gold and ivory passed the small entourage by, arms laden with bundles of linens or platters of food. Alice supposed those must be for the temporary houseguests.

"It was very kind of you to let my people stay here for a while," Alice remarked. "Thank you." Her people were likely traumatized by their ordeals and the terrible events which had occurred in the Game Room. This place had a tranquil, therapeutic atmosphere, which would be most conducive in helping the oysters cope and recover until they could be returned home.

"Well, it seemed like the most practical choice," said the duchess. "The Heart palace has been defunct for years since the former queen decided to make the casino her home." Her voice then took an unexpected turn for the faintly sardonic. "It would take probably a decade of cleaning to make it even partly inhabitable for rats."

Alice idly wondered about the other card suits, the Clubs and Spades. She wondered if they claimed noble status and if it were bonds of blood that determined which suit one belonged to, or something else. Had the Hearts always been the suit in power, or was it based on some kind of rotation system? After all, everyone had always referred to the queen as the Queen of Hearts, not necessarily the Queen of Wonderland, though it was understood that she did rule over the realm. _Stupid politics. No matter what world you're in, it's always confusing. _

Jack was ensconced in a study, hidden behind a neat tower of books set upon a large wooden desk. Two Suits stood sentry at the partially open doors, immediately stepping aside when they caught sight of the duchess and the minister. On the mantle of the fireplace behind Jack was a huge portrait of a man in his fifties with graying blonde hair and bright, green-hazel eyes.

"My father, Duke Adonus Diamond," the duchess supplied, apparently having seen Alice's attention flit to the portrait. There was no need to explain what had happened to him. She had a very strong suspicion the Duke of Diamonds had ended up on the queen's chopping block, leaving his daughter the only one left alive to carry on the family legacy. She could not imagine the fear and pain that young woman must have been hiding underneath that haughty façade.

"Alice," greeted Jack, standing and straightening his crimson suit jacket. His outfit was much the same as it had been the day she had learned the truth of who he really was. There was no crown or any other kind of obvious indication that his status had changed. It was all there in his bearing, a new air of authority burdened by the weight of huge responsibility.

"Hello, Jack," she said in return. After all they had been through she figured she had the right to address him by his first name.

She glanced down at his hands, noticing that he was not wearing the Stone of Wonderland. "Where's the ring?"

"It's safe. Once we are ready to return the first group of oysters back home, it will be back in its place at the Looking Glass," he assured her. He directed his attention to the minister and the duchess. "Ilaena, Number Ten, thank you, but I'd like to speak to her alone."

Out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw the duchess's lips purse, but the tall woman merely curtseyed woodenly and turned to walk out the door, the minister following behind her. The door shut, leaving Alice alone with her ex-boyfriend, the King of Hearts.

"So, I take it this is central command for the moment?" Alice inquired.

"Yes, for the moment," replied Jack, turning his back to her and leaning his hand against the mantle of the fireplace, "possibly for a long while. I do intend to have the palace completely renovated so I can move the court back to there at some point. I just don't know when that will be." He moved his hand to rub at his eyes and then turned. Alice saw there were dark circles under her former lover's eyes. He looked completely worn out, not at all like a man who had just won a great victory.

"Have you slept at all, Jack?" she asked with concern. Their relationship as lovers may be beyond redemption, but she still did care about him and his welfare.

"A little," he admitted, coming forward and around the desk to approach her. "But don't worry about me. How are you doing?"

Alice glanced away from him, unnerved by the intense look in his gold-brown eyes. She focused her attention towards the window overlooking the courtyard. "I'm okay. A bit banged up, but I'll live."

"Good," replied Jack. There was a beat of silence, which seemed to last almost hours. She knew some of the things he wanted to ask, but she was going to let him broach the subjects rather than open the door for him. "Alice, what happened? As glad as I am to see you alive and well…you should be dead."

There it was, question number one that had been gnawing away at his curiosity. Alice sighed, and headed for the chair. If she was going to be telling stories, she would much rather be seated for it.

"You told my mother you had been brought back from the dead," Jack said skeptically. "Is that true?"

Alice snorted. "No, I just stretched the truth a bit to give her a scare," she admitted. "What really happened is that I got extremely lucky. I ended up hitting one of those trees, which slowed my fall down enough to grab onto a branch and presto: no pancake Alice."

"Oh," was Jack's response, sounding somewhat miffed at the simplicity of her explanation. Had he been hoping she _had_ been truly resurrected from the dead just for the sole purpose of taking his mother down?

He walked back around his desk and seated himself back in his chair, facing her directly. "And after that?" he probed expectantly.

Alice met his gaze. "I tracked the Suits who had captured you and Hatter back to the casino, took out the guards at the back bottom entrance, snatched up a Diamond girl and forced her to exchange outfits with me so I could search the casino for Hatter in disguise. Charlie then randomly showed up with his skeleton army which, by the way, was totally without my knowledge." She held her hands up as if to absolve herself of responsibility. "I found Hatter and my father being attacked by Mad March so I intervened and stabbed him with a butterfly knife I took from one of the Suits. That was when I found out about him being sort of already dead, but then Hatter smashed his head to bits with one swing and that appeared to do the trick."

Jack's eyes widened. "You _stabbed_ Mad March…and Hatter killed him?" he repeated in disbelief.

Alice nodded. "Well, killed him again and hopefully more permanently."

The young king studied her for a long while, his light brown eyes restless with growing questions and assumptions. "Then you went to the Game Room after that?" he asked.

"Yes," Alice confirmed, "I wanted to wake up the oysters—erm, my people—and free them. It wasn't my intention to, uh, destroy the entire casino, but…well, things got a little out of hand when the minister came in with all his Suits and then…" her voice faltered. The face of the man she had killed swam in her vision, twisting her gut with horror and guilt. Since that moment she had done a rather impeccable job of not dwelling on it. But talking about the events of the Game Room revitalized it. She saw the hilt of the knife—the knife she had expertly thrown—sticking out of the man's neck and the crimson fountain spouting out around the blade.

"The minister told me Walrus, a man who worked with your father in the laboratory, came into the room and attempted to shoot your father," Jack filled in for her, his voice filled with compassion.

Alice clenched her fists and swallowed, not even having the heart to poke fun at the man's name when she had, quite by coincident, compared him to a walrus in her head. She bleakly nodded her head.

"But you stopped him. You saved your father's life," said Jack.

"By killing a man," Alice muttered. If only she had taken more time to aim, she could have just hit him in the shoulder, which would have made him at least stumble or drop the gun.

Jack let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Alice. For whatever it's worth, Walrus was a cruel, horrible man. He was the one who usually wound up executing any oysters who had…outlived their uses to my mother."

She appreciated his efforts to alleviate her crushing sense of guilt, but even knowing that did not make her feel much better. There was no undoing what she did, though. Alice would just have to live with what she had done. Although, now she had a slightly better understanding of why Angel—a vampire with a soul who served as one of their allies—brooded over his pre-soul misdeeds so much. Alice had only killed the one man and she was tearing herself up about it.

"Alice," Jack started, his tone filled with hesitance, "I saw what Mad March did to you. By all rights, he should have knocked you unconscious when he…"

"Tried to crack my skull like an egg?" Alice supplied dryly.

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, but not only did you remain conscious, you then fought and neutralized several Suits—men who have years of training and experience in combat under their belts. When I heard about your actions with the White Rabbit agent, I chalked it up to my mother overreacting." He smiled humorlessly at her. "She had a habit of doing that."

"What a surprise," she mumbled.

"But, I saw how you fought, and it was nothing like what I saw in your dojo during classes. Those were moves way beyond anything I've ever seen you do. And your strength," he paused to shake his head in wonderment, "it was unbelievable."

Alice sat very still in the chair, evenly meeting Jack's befuddled gaze.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is: with the skills you've demonstrated and what I've heard, it appears that it far exceeds the abilities of a twenty-one-year old martial arts instructor," he finished, a slight note of accusation to his tone. "You've kept something from me."

She nearly choked on her snort of ironic laughter. "You're one to talk," she retorted.

At least he had the sense to look appropriately shamefaced. Alice had a perfectly good reason for keeping her job a secret from him so early in their relationship. It was inexcusable to keep the existence of a fiancé from her. Though she supposed he had good reasons for his secrecy as well. The knowledge that he had held the fate of a kingdom and people in his hands did mollify her anger at the deceit…a little.

"Alice, you know why I did not tell you the truth. If there were a way I could do things differently, perhaps not be so deceiving, I would. But there isn't and I was desperate," he argued, his eyes begging for her to understand. "But it hardly seems fair that I be punished for lying to you when it seems that you have been doing the very same thing. You are not all you appear to be just as I was not all I appeared to be."

"Wrong," Alice countered, leaning forward. "You were nothing you appeared to be. I _am_ Alice Hamilton. I do live in Cleveland, Ohio with my mother Carol. I am a Libra, I am a student at the university, and I am a martial arts instructor. None of that was a lie. And I even told you when we were on our way to see Caterpillar that there were things about me you would have learned eventually if you had stuck around long enough. I only withheld certain details about myself because I had to, but I never outright lied to you."

"I assume Hatter," his voice wavered on the other man's name and there was a flicker of disdain crossing his features, "already knows."

The girl bristled at the insult within the subtext of Jack's words. But she forced back any irate responses. "Yes, he does. The situation we were in called for me to admit to the truth, and, oddly enough, he sort of rebuked me for keeping it from you."

That seemed to shock Jack, but he quickly shook it off and pressed on in an acerbic voice, "So, will you tell me now what it was I was not privileged to know before?"

_Wish I had tape-recorded the talk with Hatter. _Instead of giving him the long, detailed saga she had bestowed upon Hatter that night in Charlie's encampment, she gave him the abridged version. She shied away from going into long descriptions about demons and vampires, saying that there were supernatural creatures in her world that posed a threat to humanity and that she, along with many other girls, had been specially Chosen to combat them. Jack listened, frozen in place, as she briefly described her enhanced powers and abilities.

"Happy now?" she asked darkly.

Jack stared at her in mute astonishment. It was some time before he actually ventured a few words. "You've been doing this…how long?"

"Since I was fifteen…well, I turned sixteen later in the year, but, yeah, for about six years now," answered Alice.

The man wiped at his brow, huffing in wonder. "Good lord, Alice…I had no idea."

"See why I didn't tell you at the start of the relationship?" she pointed out. "Stuff like that tends to make people think you belong in an asylum weaving baskets."

"All the same," Jack said softly, "I wish you had told me. It sounds like a very dangerous job." His eyes fell upon her, full of wonder, trepidation, and worry.

"And I wish you had told me you were engaged," Alice shot back. "Real nice move, by the way, having your fiancé escort me to see you. Totally wasn't awkward for either of us."

Jack's face fell, showing he clearly had not considered that. "Oh, well…"

"Forget my feelings on the matter, which I think you probably did, but what about her? I mean, from her standpoint, you cheated on her with me and now you just sent her off in _her_ house while you are in here alone with me," she rebuked him.

"That wasn't…I mean, I didn't mean…" the king stammered, tugging on his tie.

"I know you said you guys don't have any feelings for one another, but seriously, Jack," she stopped her rant when she noticed the peculiar expression on his face. "Jack?"

The man appeared to have drifted off for the moment, lost in his own thoughts. Then he shook his head and looked at Alice. "It doesn't matter. I love _you_, Alice."

This was the second official declaration of love he had made to her, and it still failed to incite even the barest fluttery feeling in her stomach as she had always been made to believe it would. All she could summon to feel for him was a strange sense of pity. He did actually appear to mean his words. How ironic that when she had been dating him, she had been doubtful as to her abilities to actually love a man. By his own actions, by leading her into this world, she had undergone a miraculous self-transformation into a woman who could and did love a man. But it was not him.

"I know," she said softly.

"But you don't love me," he stated with bleak acceptance.

Alice sighed. "I don't _hate_ you, Jack. And, given time, I'll get over your deception and like you a lot more again, but…no, I don't love you. I'm sorry."

"You love _him_, don't you?"

She did not answer that question, feeling it was far too new and personal to discuss with her former lover. But he probably sensed the answer anyway. Alice forced herself to look up at him, and she bit down on her lip as she read the regret and sadness in his face. He probably had not been planning on falling in love during his mission. In a way, she could see how he had gotten one of the short ends of the stick.

"Well, I wish you two all the luck in the world," Jack told her sincerely. The remark took her by surprise, and she was deeply touched by it.

Feeling as if it was a kindly worded dismissal so he could be left alone to nurse his emotional wounds, Alice nodded and gracefully rose to her feet. Jack walked her to the door, his arm casually draped around her shoulder. They shared a friendly embrace which did more towards earning her forgiveness than any words could have.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered as she pulled away from the hug. "In spite of everything, I am glad you led me here. I wouldn't have found my father or…" _Hatter_, she had been about to say, but she stopped herself.

Jack just gave her a crooked smile. "Goodbye, Alice."

"Goodbye, Jack."

* * *

If Alice had thought that contrarily depressing and uplifting conversation would mark the conclusion of her time at Diamond Manor, she was to be mistaken. The doors of the study clicked shut behind her, the Suits shifting back into their sentry position in front. The Minister of Clubs had mysteriously vanished, leaving the tall form of the duchess alone, leaning against a window and gazing out over the central courtyard deep in thought.

Alice was caught between interrupting the other woman's introspection and merely studying her in this rare, unguarded moment. The moment did not last long, for the duchess soon noticed that she was there.

"That was quicker than I thought it would be," was her cryptic comment on Alice's presence.

"And just what do you assume 'it' was?" Alice could not help but snap.

The duchess shrugged, her eyebrow arching upwards. Her green-hazel eyes continued to regard her dispassionately. "It doesn't matter what I think," she replied, while turning her head to gaze back out the window. "It never has with Jack."

There it was. A few words along with a bit of bitterness seeping into the tone of the woman's voice and she betrayed the depth of her feelings for Jack—feelings which she seemed to think were unrequited. Alice felt her stomach contract with the familiar sensation of guilt. She recalled seeing them standing side-by-side after the fall of the casino, and something dawned upon the young Slayer which had not occurred to her before. A puzzle piece she had not even been searching for unfathomably clicked into place.

"You helped him escape from the casino," Alice noted.

The duchess nodded curtly. "His mother sentenced him to death. What else could I do? I could not watch him die, even though I wished he would die a thousand deaths sometimes for the pain he caused me. But I was there when she passed the sentence…and something within me…" she shook her head, her words rattling off into silence.

"Snapped?" Alice offered.

"Yes…snapped," the duchess repeated, reaching out to lightly drag a long, red nail down the windowpane. "It's so strange. I know he does not love me...not like I…" She stubbornly pressed her lips together, as if she refused to say the word. "Even after he went on that mad dash into your land and…" her gaze flicked over to Alice for a few seconds, "even after that, I just could not stomach the thought of his death."

_Wow, I feel like such a horrible bitch,_ Alice thought to herself. But then the logical part of her mind kept insisting she had no reason to feel such a way. She had not been aware this woman existed at the time. She had not forced Jack to develop feelings for her. But, still, being confronted with the woman who was (still was?) to be her former lover's wife and hear her admit to her pain was not helping alleviate the girl's guilt at all.

"I have only myself to blame," the blonde woman declared grimly. "I played the part of the Queen's Pet far too well. I made him believe I cared nothing but for the power and prestige our marriage could bring me. But I thought he still could see…that he might…" Her hand flew up to her mouth as if to forcibly immobilize her lips.

Alice felt like she was being drawn into another hopelessly awkward conversation and her first instinct was to try to find an exit strategy. But as she stood there, watching this proud young woman attempt to collect the shattered remnants of a broken heart, sympathy and guilt banded together to anchor her feet to the ground.

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

The duchess's head jerked towards her.

"It's not really my fault, I know," Alice continued, venturing towards the window. "If I had known about you, I would have dumped him on his ass. Literally and figuratively."

That last remark seemed to provoke a ghostly smile from the blonde woman.

"But, all the same, I am sorry about how things turned out," she said softly, leaning up against the side of the window opposite of the duchess. _Well, about how _some_ things turned out anyway,_ she silently amended.

The duchess regarded her, questions rising in her eyes. "Thank you," she finally said. "I do appreciate that. But you're right," she threw a menacing look at the study doors, "it's not your fault."

Alice sighed heavily. There was one thing she could offer this distraught young woman. It was a slim nugget of hope that her feelings would not continue to go unreciprocated. Yes, Jack claimed to love her, and she knew he meant it. But, for some reason, the Slayer doubted it was the kind of passionate, romantic love he probably envisioned. He seemed more to love the idea of her, of what she had represented than who she was for herself. And she remembered the troubled look passing over his features before he had told her he loved her. Was it possible he had been grappling with confusion about his own feelings after having learned that the duchess was not merely his mother's puppet?

"Look, give him some time to sort out his feelings," Alice advised. "And try to drop the whole 'duchess' façade a bit. You said yourself you kind of gave the impression of being an ice queen so maybe now you have to drop the guard a little. Open up and let him get to know _you_. You may have to be a little more direct than you're used to because he's a man, and, well, they tend to be morons when it comes to stuff like this."

"In your world, as well?" the duchess replied, bemused.

"Unfortunately," Alice lamented.

The duchess sighed despondently. "It will be difficult. I've played the part for so long I hardly know where the duchess ends and Ilaena begins. I had no other choice but to lock myself away." Her eyes took on a faraway look; seeing things the young Slayer was not privy to. Alice wondered if she was thinking of her father, which made her also wonder how young the woman had been when he had died.

It took a particular kind of strength to survive and endure through such tragedy. The steely look in the woman's eyes back in the throne room had been but a mere glimpse of that inner resolve. But her suffering and forced role-playing had not killed the humanity in her, though she may have bottled it away so it could be preserved. She had opened her home to an entire group of strangers, showing a keen propensity for graciousness, pragmatism, and compassion. All those traits would make for an excellent queen. Jack seemed to have little idea of what an extraordinary partner he could have in her.

_Christ, am I seriously trying to play match-maker between my ex and his fiancé? This is so surreal. Where did vindictive Alice go? _

"I will think on what you have said, Alice," the duchess stated when she returned to herself. "And I appreciate your candor. I have seen precious little of it in so long. And, please, do call me Ilaena."

Alice smiled at her. Already there was a transformation in the noblewoman's features, a tangible easing of the tight, controlled mask. She hoped things worked out between the duchess and Jack, but only time would unveil their story. And the girl doubted she would be around to see how it would play out. It was a shame, really. Under different circumstances, the duchess seemed like someone she could be friends with.

"Well, have you plans to return to the city now? You must at least stay for some light refreshments," the duchess insisted, taking Alice's arm and steering her down the corridor in a slow stroll. She had slipped back into the role of the noble hostess, but there was a decidedly more casual air to her demeanor.

"Free food?" Alice asked brightly. "Those are two of my favorite words." Slayers tended to have large appetites, and she was no exception. Luckily, their extremely active lifestyles balanced out their eating habits.

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask," the duchess piped up quite suddenly, "how is that dashing young teashop owner?"

The question was framed innocently enough, but Alice could pick up on the suggestive threads. A silly grin formed on her face, however, just at the mere mention of Hatter. Surely this would also help ease the duchess's mind on how things stood between Jack and the young Slayer.

"He's a little roughed up, but he'll be fine," she answered. Then a thought came to her, a little quirk of Wonderland which had been nagging at the back of her mind for quite some time. It was a delicate subject though, not one she particularly wanted to be overheard by servants who probably were just as stereotypically prone to gossip as all the literature, movies, and television shows depicted.

"Um, Duch—Ilaena," Alice ventured, furtively glancing around, "I have kind of a personal question…"

* * *

Just would like to point out that my story purposefully ignores the Buffy Season 8 comics and Angel's "After the Fall" comics, if that wasn't already clear. I might draw some concepts and ideas from those wherever I see fit, but, for the most part, my stories are not compliant with those (mainly because I never fully read them, but also because they get really weird).

Oh and the chapter title was inspired by the title of yet another Buffy episode, but I don't think it's one as famous as "Once More, With Feeling".

I thrive on feedback, so don't hold back!


	31. Problem Solving

So I meant to have this out by Valentine's Day but my plans went awry due to taxes, MCAT business, and in general being bummed because I did not get to see my boyfriend :-(. I hope you all had wonderful holidays with your loved ones!

Enjoy this fat chapter, my lovely readers! Hold on to your hats…I apologize for the emotional rollercoaster to follow…

* * *

**Chapter XXX: **Problem Solving

Hatter walked back to his shop, despite the insistence of the doctor at the Hospital of Dreams that he secure a transport. On foot, the journey through the twisted, convoluted pathways of the dregs of the city took about an hour. But he needed it. He needed the solitary exertion to pacify the chaos growing in his heart and mind. His thoughts were a rolling jumble of frustration, worry, and, loathe as he was to admit it, jealousy. How he detested that insidious emotion, one of the many he had never truly experienced up until recently. It was completely irrational; it did not make a whit of sense that he should still be feeling jealous of Jack. And he trusted Alice. He believed her when she told him that things were over between her and the Heart.

Truth be told, he did not even have the right to feel jealous. He and Alice had never reached a full consensus on just what was going on between them. She was not _really_ his, though it certainly felt like it. There was, as of yet, no relationship beyond friendship. How could there be? Sooner or later, she would leave this world to return to her life of battling bloodsuckers and demons. His gut clenched up, dismayed not only by the idea of being separated from her, but also at the idea of the perils she would be returning to. What if something happened to her on that treacherous hellmouth she lived on? He would never know. Every second she spent back in her world, he would be spending here worrying and wondering, tormented in his mind by all the possibilities. How could he function like that?

For so long he had never had anyone but himself to worry about. Life was so much simpler, so much less stressful that way. But there was no going back to how things used to be. Alice had changed him in more ways than one. She had shown him the difference between truly living and merely existing. Since life had cruelly spat him out into the unforgiving streets of Wonderland as a young lad, he had just existed. With her, he had begun to live.

He shook himself out of those thoughts, knowing he needed to be on his guard now more than ever. But he did not encounter a soul en route to his shop. Perhaps the denizens of the city were in shock, not yet fully used to the idea that the casino and the tyrannical Queen of Hearts were gone. He wondered where his former patrons were lurking, not to mention what exactly would be done about them. Not everyone would take the news of the queen's downfall with jubilation. There were those who relied on the teas Hatter had doled out as a normal person relied on food for survival. They needed it just to get through a single day, and now that they were slowly being forced to face up to a rather harsh reality, they were likely to get desperate to secure an escape through a fix.

The Tea House was still standing, which proved to be somewhat of a surprise to Hatter. The door had been knocked clear off its hinges, taking some of the frame with it. That must have been Mad March's doing, and he had probably done that for no particular reason at all other than to feed his destructive nature. The windows had also been busted, littering the front porch with sharp shards of glass amidst the splintered remains of the door. He took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself for the carnage bound to be discovered inside. This place had served as his home for quite a few years, sheltering and earning him a steady income while many others had floundered.

He treaded cautiously; ever aware that there might be looters indoors, trying to lap up what remained of his most likely ruined tea stock. But the once noisy, crowded room was now silent and empty. Not a single chair and table had been left standing. Dormie's podium was likewise overturned and the blackboard which had displayed the vacillating worth of all the various emotions had been cracked in two. The shelves which had displayed hundreds of different tea flavors had been totally cleared, the fluorescent lighting flickering weakly in a few spots and completely burnt out in others. The trampled grass was damp and stained with the various colors of all those elixirs. He was not certain if the bottles had been broken by the Suits or by looters afterwards. It did not matter now. There would be no more business in tea.

His office was in the same disastrous state, and there had definitely been some thievery. He was peeved to see that his gloriously comfortable high-backed chair had been stolen. Walking further into the room, he clenched his fists in confounded fury when he saw that the sofa had been taken as well.

_Rat bastards…taking all my nice furniture_, he fumed to himself. His wardrobe had been partly emptied as well, with the few coats left behind strung out all over the trampled grass. He supposed he should have seen that one coming since he had made no secret of his penchant for fashionable clothing. Thank whatever gods there were most of his clothes, including his precious hat collection, were safely stowed downstairs in his own private nook. That is, unless his luck was really horrible and someone had discovered the hidden trap door. But he had paid handsomely to have an iron-clad security system installed so he could have his own sanctuary, and even if someone had discovered the secret door, he would not have known the code to unlock it.

For his own peace of mind, however, he went over to a patch of grass which was slightly lighter in shade than the rest and unrolled the mat of fake grass, exposing a shiny chrome rectangle with a little keypad above the handle. There were no marks on the door to show that someone had attempted to tamper with it. He stared at the door indecisively for a moment and then, with a few quick glances around, punched the code into the pad and opened the door. A staircase plunged into darkness, but once Hatter descended a few steps, the motion sensor lights flickered on. The small, hidden apartment lit up, and the young man breathed a profound sigh of relief when he saw that his actual living space remained undisturbed.

It was small, but it was more than enough room to house a single man who led a busy life. There was a large, four poster canopy bed, the cobalt drapes tied with golden knotted cords around the posts. The thick blue and black striped blanket was rumpled, his pillows strewn aside. Up against the wall across from his bed were two large cedar wardrobes, one for his supply of trousers, underclothes, shirts, and shoes—the other for his hats. Bookcases lined the walls, filled to the brim with books. Even some of the walls had shelves built into them to fit more books and knickknacks.

Hatter pulled his hat off and hung it on the coat rack by the staircase that led up to his office. That was his lucky hat and it had seen quite a bit of action in the past few days. If he and Alice did somehow manage to make things work, he had a feeling his life would get considerably more interesting.

The hat seemed to have survived all the past days' exploits remarkably unscathed, which was more than could be said for his jacket and his poor ruined shirt. The brown leather was ripped and scuffed, one of the buttons torn completely off. He peeled off the ragged silk shirt, holding the fabric in his hands and staring at it despondently.

_Get over it, mate, it's just a shirt…at least you're alive to care about it._

Thick white bandages peppered his torso, concentrated in his midsection where the Tweedles had used the electric prod most. They had taken his body armor and now it lay somewhere buried beneath the wreckage of the Happy Hearts Casino. It was probable that he would soon be in the market for a new one. He tentatively prodded the bruise on his upper left side just under the collarbone, the hallmark of his meeting with the end of Dodo's gun. It still felt relatively sore, but certainly not as painful as just a few days ago. He may not have boasted fancy Slayer-paced healing, but he did well enough on his own.

Throwing the shirt on one of his chairs, he strode to the kitchenette and pulled out his much beloved tea kettle. "I think I've earned this," he said to no one in particular and began to brew himself a cup of tea.

After that gloriously refreshing cup of green tea along with some bread and butter to soothe the growling of his stomach, he took a quick shower. Throwing on some black trousers and another silk button down shirt with a dark purple and gold checkered pattern, he reluctantly headed back up to his ransacked office.

This time someone was up there, and he nearly caused the diminutive figure of Dormie to keel over in heart failure when Hatter made his presence known.

"Arrrgghh!" the little man shrieked, clutching at his chest and jumping an impressive distance into the air. His barrel chest heaved alarmingly when he finally looked at him. "Hatter! You're alive!"

"Last time I checked, yeah," Hatter replied in bemusement as he shut the door and covered it with the grass mat. Dormie knew about his room down below, he just did not know how to get in. Hatter preferred it that way.

"I just thought, you know, with the casino falling…" Dormie lapsed into silence, sheepishly glancing around. Then his homely face split into a wide grin. "But it's great, seeing you! I mean, I was worried sick."

The last time Hatter had seen his wee friend had been two days ago when he had sent him off with that message to meet with Caterpillar. He had not given much thought to what Dormie had been doing with his time in between then. More than likely, the miniature man had been laying low in terror of the queen's servants or irate tea patrons.

"Geez, boss, what did they do to you in that place?" Dormie squeaked, his eyes round with horror when he noticed the colorful assortment of still-healing bruises and cuts on his face.

Hatter brushed his finger against a cut on his temple and then shrugged dismissively. "Nothing that'll kill me, mate. Just a few cuts and bruises, is all. Takes more than that to take down me!" He shot his small friend a smile full of more cockiness than he felt, but it served to ease Dormie's distress.

"Word was you had gotten captured. We thought you were a goner after that," said Dormie. He waddled over to where one of Hatter's jackets lay sprawled on the grass and picked it up, brushing off the errant green blades which stuck to the suede material.

Ignoring the twinges of pain from the burns and bruises scattered over his torso, he crouched down to help his friend pick up the remainder of his fine coats.

"How did you get out?" The question was followed by a huge yawn.

A small smile ghosted over Hatter's face. "Well, I ran out the door, of course. Didn't care much for a building collapsing on top of me. I had some good friends inside, though. I wouldn't be here talking to you now if it hadn't been for them."

They hung up the coats in the glass wardrobe, which was miraculously still standing and in one piece. They then set to picking up the paraphernalia surrounding the desk and arranging it back on the desk in a semi-orderly fashion.

"So, uh, guess we're out of business now, aren't we, boss?" Dormie intoned somewhat mournfully.

Hatter glanced down at the stack of papers he had returned to the desk detailing some of the various business matters pertaining to the Tea House. His gaze then swung over to his friend. "It's for the best, Dormie."

"What're we gonna do now?"

Hatter did not have an answer for that. He had no idea what he was going to do with his life now that both of his positions as an undercover Resistance agent and running the Tea House were extinct. For the past decade, all he had been trying to do was keep his head afloat (and upon his shoulders). He had never dared entertain dreams of doing anything else. And, now that Alice had come into his life and turned it completely upside down, he was even more dubious of his future than ever. All he knew was that he did not want a future where that intractable, beautiful oyster girl was not a part of it.

"I don't know, Dormie." He massaged the bridge of his nose. "I guess we'll just clean this place up a bit and brainstorm about what else we could do with it."

He did not notice Dormie's eyes slide over to the front of the office down the beaten dirt pathway. "Uh, Hatter?"

"What with the old tea being obsolete now, we'll just have to find some other kind of product," Hatter droned on, completely oblivious to Dormie's attempts to grab his attention. "I mean, this opens up a new world of possibilities, mate. We could do lots of things we couldn't have done before under the old regime…"

"Hatter." Dormie started tugging on his shirt, pointing towards the front of the office. "I think you have a visitor."

"Hmmm?" Hatter peered at his small friend and then, noticing the direction of his attention, turned his gaze to the front door of the office.

Alice was standing there, leaning up against the doorway with an enigmatic smile upon her face. She was once again wearing the blue dress and purple boots along with the purple velvet coat he had given her all those days ago when they had first met. The raspberry-colored leggings were mysteriously missing, leaving her pale, toned legs wonderfully bare.

"Hey," he breathed, blinking in surprise. He had not expected to see her for quite a long while, figuring that her discussion with Jack might take most of the day. And he definitely had not expected to see her here at his shop. How had she gotten here anyway? She certainly would not have known the way.

"Hey," she returned, her smile broadening. He felt his heart thump with a strange sense of anticipation.

"Who is she, boss?" Dormie whispered, his gaze switching back and forth between Hatter and Alice.

"Who is she?" Hatter repeated in bafflement. "Oh, that's right. You never met Alice."

Dormie's brows shot up. "Alice? She's _Alice_?" he squeaked incredulously.

Alice strolled down the pathway, her blue eyes centering on the small, awestruck fellow with amusement. "Well, I'm not the Alice of Legend," she demurred, "but, yes, my name is Alice."

"This is Dormie," Hatter informed her. "He works—ehm…worked at the shop, too."

"Nice to meet you," Alice greeted, sticking her hand out to the tiny man.

Dormie was caught in between terror and wonderment. He gawked at Alice's hand, his eyes eventually traveling up the length of her arm to her face. She glanced over at Hatter, her brows knitting together.

"For crying out loud, Dormie. She's not going to bite you," Hatter said dryly, shaking his head at his partner's hesitance.

Dormie slowly stretched his hand out to shake Alice's, his eyes never moving from her face. "Nice to meet you," he said meekly.

"Did you come here all by yourself?" Hatter asked her, frowning in consternation at the thought.

"Nah, I had the Scarab drop me off here," she replied. "Jack still insists I lug around a bodyguard," she paused to roll her eyes, prompting a snort from Hatter, "so there are two Suits hanging out on the porch. If we want to go anywhere, we apparently just have to tell them and they'll call for a transport. Those guys aren't half bad when they're not trying to shoot us."

"So, everything went well at the manor, then?" Hatter asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He was very curious about what she and Jack might have said to one another. But he would not stoop so low as to actually ask her.

That secretive smile returned. "Oh yes, it did." There was a very strange vibe emanating from her; filled with longing, hope, nervousness, and deep affection.

His eyebrow rose in question. The girl bit upon her bottom lip and reached up to push some strands of hair away from her face. Her eyes flicked down to Dormie (whom Hatter had nearly forgotten was in the room) and then back to him. The unspoken message was clear. She wanted to speak to him alone.

"Um, Dormie, could you excuse us?" Hatter asked; his eyes glued to Alice. "We're gonna head downstairs to chat."

"Whatever you say, boss," Dormie piped up. He seemed to be somewhat unnerved by Alice's presence, which bade him to wonder what sort of rumors were abounding about the oyster girl.

"Downstairs?" Alice's brows shot up. "There's a downstairs?"

"What did you think I slept on the sofa?" Hatter asked, bemused.

Alice glanced over at the spot where the sofa had once sat and drew back, confused. "Speaking of your sofa, where is it?"

"Yeah," Hatter said darkly, leading her over to the patch of grass where the hidden door lay underneath, "leave a place like this open and vulnerable long enough and you wind up losing some nice things."

"Ouch," the girl replied. "I'm sorry, Hatter."

He rolled back the mat of grass and shrugged. "Eh, I'll live."

"I don't think I'll ever figure out Wonderland technology," Alice grumbled when he started punching the code into the keypad. "I mean, first it seems like you guys are still stuck in the Dark Ages. And then it seems like you're a couple centuries ahead of my world."

He led her down into his personal sanctum. Alice was completely taken aback by the cozy chamber and expressed instant delight in it. "Hatter! This is amazing! It's like the bat cave…only with a much better interior decorator."

"Bat cave?" he repeated in puzzlement.

"Oh, yeah, sometime I'll have to explain all these pop culture references, I guess," Alice said, smiling apologetically.

She wandered about the room like a giddy child, throwing out many compliments for his tastes in decoration. He grinned at her exuberance, a side of her he had not had much opportunity to view in their short time of knowing one another. The girl seemed especially drawn by his book collection.

"You're a closet bookworm!" she commented in a mock accusatory voice. She ran her fingers along some of the spines. "Wait a minute, I recognize some of these: _A Tale of Two Cities, War and Peace, Shakespeare_…there're a lot of books from my world." She turned to Hatter with an inquisitive look in her eyes.

"The White Rabbit agents didn't only bring _people_ over from your world," he explained. "And, of course, people used to randomly just pop up in Wonderland."

"Randomly pop up?" Alice asked. "What, like the other Alice did?"

"Well, yeah, just 'cause she happens to be the most famous one doesn't mean she was the only one," he said. "But the queen had her agents find all those 'rabbit holes'. And that's how they established the Looking Glass network."

Alice slowly walked over to the bed, reaching out to touch the dark blue brocade of the drapes. "So, you guys didn't create the portals yourselves?" she asked without turning around.

"Um, well, not that I know of," he answered. "I think they were always there."

Alice was silent for a moment, ponderously running her hands along the fabric of his tangled blankets, making him wish he had tidied the bed up before she came down. "Did anyone from Wonderland ever randomly pop up in my world?" she asked.

"Honestly," Hatter replied thoughtfully, "I've no idea on that one."

Her inspection of the bed seemingly finished, the girl slowly approached him. All of a sudden, her curious, charming demeanor was replaced with one of uncharacteristic hesitance. "So, uh, yeah, I really have been meaning to talk to you about…" she looked down at her clasped hands, "things." The word hung there ambiguously.

"Okay," he replied softly, reaching out to help her slip out of the jacket and hanging it up. "Would you like a cup of tea? Real tea, I mean, not that swill I used to peddle up above. Plus I don't think that tea would have had much effect on you, anyway."

"I would love a cup of tea," she said, smiling sweetly.

She settled herself in one of the comfortable armchairs while he boiled water in the kettle. He ended up making a cup for himself and her; feeling the tea might be useful in helping to soothe his suddenly very edgy nerves. He felt as if he and Alice were on the brink of something, something which would change the status of their relationship. He had never had an actual romantic relationship before. Just a long line of girls who had provided nothing more than physical companionship and, at times, a thin layer of friendship. This thing with Alice, while still more or less amorphous, was like uncharted territory. It scared him as much as it tantalized him.

"So, um, yeah, the things," Alice began, sipping on the steaming cup of tea. He had not thought to ask her what kind of tea she liked or what kind of things she liked in her tea. He hoped the tea was to her taste.

"Yeah…things," he reiterated, taking the seat right next to her with his own cup of tea.

"Okay, I guess I'll go first and, um, just stop me if you feel the need to because I might cross over into the territory of babbling incoherence," she warned him. Then she took a deep breath and began speaking. "To start off, I officially ended things with Jack, which I'm sure you were probably wondering about."

Yes, he had been wondering about that. Not that he would admit to it.

"And now…" she grew quiet, as if uncertain of what to say. "I want to figure out what to do about us. Because though what we have is so new, it's deeper than anything I've ever felt. I never thought…never dreamed I could feel this way about anyone. You saved my life and you stood by me and stood up for me even when I tried to push you away or run away. I don't feel like I deserve you sometimes."

Hatter listened in shell-shocked silence. His heart was hammering with that strange sense of anticipation, sending warmth throughout his entire body that had nothing to do with the cup of tea he still gripped in his hands.

"I don't know how it's possible in this short amount of time that we've known each other. But my instincts are telling me it's real and true and…oh hell, the truth is," she paused to take in another deep breath, "I'm in love with you. Fucking head over heels in love like out of a fairytale that I never used to believe in. I feel like you were something I had been searching for my whole life without even realizing it. And I'm scared, Hatter." She turned to face him now, her blue eyes glistening with tears. For his part, he was struck speechless by her confession.

"I'm scared of losing you. You're from Wonderland and I'm…not. I really don't even want to contemplate trying to live without you. I have to go back, I know this. I have a duty, a sacred duty that I can't just ignore. My mother, all my friends, gah…but it's tearing me to pieces just thinking about leaving you. It makes me feel so empty," she confessed, her bottom lip quivering. She then wiped at her eyes. "Wow, okay I hadn't planned on crying. I was planning on doing this with a healthy dose of dry wit…stupid girly emotions."

Alice's brow furrowed when he did not give a response. "Hatter?"

He did not speak; instead he let the teacup just drop to the floor as he lunged forward and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss. Euphoria strummed through his veins and that weird fluttering feeling rose up in his belly. Alice ended up climbing over into his chair and onto his lap, winding her fingers through his hair, sending pleasant shivers from his scalp all throughout the rest of his body.

"Hatter," she whispered in between their kisses. "Hatter."

"Hmm?"

"While this reaction is very nice…we're not done talking," she reminded him with no small amount of reluctance.

_Oh bugger, to hell with talking,_ his libido cried out_._ "Yeah, you're right," he said, his voice strained with the weight of love and desire.

"Do you feel the same?" she asked tentatively. He had never heard the girl sound so insecure. Had he not shown her how much he loved her in that single kiss?

"You even have to ask, Alice? I think I started to love you since the moment you walked into my office."

"Are you sure that was me or the wet dress?" she remarked sardonically.

"I'm not going to lie, the wet dress may have been part of the decision process," he teased with an impish smile.

She laughed heartily, thankfully taking no offense to the fact that the first thing he had noticed about her was her considerable physical attributes. Then the laughter died down and her bright smile faded into a troubled expression. "So what do we do? I mean, with my Slayer metabolism I could pack away a lot of chocolate and crème cake, but, uh, I don't think there's enough of that stuff in the world to help me get over you."

Hatter sighed heavily, curling his fingers into those dark locks. The abrupt change of subject from confessions of true love into distinctly more somber territory cooled the ardor in his blood. His gut clenched again at the idea of being parted from her, having already felt what it was like to believe she was dead. A shudder ran through him at that unwelcome memory of those few hours. Those had been some of the worst few hours in his life.

He gathered up his serious thoughts, scattered as they were by the influx of thoughts of a far more wicked nature. It seemed that Alice leaving her world to stay in Wonderland was not much of an option. That left only one other conceivable option. Ironically, it was one he had considered a few days ago before he had even realized he was in love with her. Before he decided to put the idea forth to Alice, he glanced around at his abode. His eyes lingered in particular on the bed with its ruffled covers. He had spent the past two nights with Alice sleeping in his arms. He did not think he could bear a night without it now.

Just about everything in this place was nothing more than a material object which could be easily replaced or easily gotten over if he lost them. Neither of those things was possible with her. Losing her would be tantamount to losing a limb, to losing part of himself—as he had already experienced. The decision was simple, really.

"I'll go back with you," he stated as if it were the most obvious choice in the world.

Alice's eyes went round. It seemed she had not even considered that possibility. "You mean, like stay…permanently?"

"Well, yeah," Hatter said mildly. "Unless you don't want me to?"

"No, I mean, yes…" she stammered. She untangled herself from his arms and rose from the chair, beginning a round of pacing back and forth in front of the chairs. "You remember what I said about where I live, right? It's a hellmouth and the name is literal. It's the fire to this frying pan. And when I say fire, I mean hellfire." She clasped her hands together and drew them up to her lips.

"I know, Alice, you told me all about it. Lots of baddies and monsters and end-of-the-world battles, I get it. But give me a bit of credit, love. I think you've seen I can handle meself," he assured her, subtly pulling up his right hand and flexing it into a fist.

Her eyes drifted to his right limb, flashing with intrigued questions. "I know you can. But you've never come up against the things I've had to fight. It's not like fighting a Suit. They don't take prisoners...usually".

He just shrugged, unperturbed by her rant. "I'm a quick learner. In case you haven't noticed, I'm able to adapt pretty easily." he countered. "Besides, your mum lives there too and I'm assuming, since you haven't told her about all the beasties which roam the night and your job in killing them, that she's not exactly trained to deal with them. She gets by."

He could tell that he had gotten her with that reasoning by the small scowl which emerged onto her face. Honestly, if he did not know any better, he would be almost disheartened by her attempts to dissuade him from joining her in her world. But he knew it was only the fear for his safety that was goading her into this discouragement. He decided to turn the tables at that point.

"Alice, face it, your job is bloody dangerous. I know you told me it's a lot better now and there's not so much death and maiming, but it's still full of perils. You already told me you've buried some of your girls and I know you've been hurt on the job and badly, too, by the way you've talked. How do you think that makes me feel? How do you think I would feel if I were to stay here while you went back to all that?"

That seemed to stop her pacing. She faced him, her expression stricken.

"You and I both know you could die doing this job. And while that scares the hell out of me, I won't ask you to quit even for that. My point is that I'd be stuck over here never knowing, but always thinking about it. Don't you see how that would torment me every day I'd be over here? I'd be constantly wondering if you were okay, if you were hurt, if you were bleeding to death. At least if I'm over there I would know. And, being there, I can take care of you. I can do what I can to keep you safe. I couldn't do any of those things if I stayed here without you."

At some point during his rant, he had risen to his feet and crossed the distance between him and Alice. He did not notice how his body had begun to tremble from the release of all those fears which he had kept caged within. These were thoughts which had troubled him for a long time, and it felt quite cathartic to finally get it off his chest. He also did not notice (or, maybe, just did not acknowledge) that his dark brown eyes had grown blurry with the threat of tears.

"I'm so sorry," Alice murmured, pulling him into a hug. "I don't mean to scare you…I just want you to know, to understand that coming with me won't be like a perfect happily ever after. I want you to know what you'd be getting into before you decide to make such a sacrifice."

Hatter pressed his lips against her sweet-smelling hair. "It's not that much of a sacrifice, love," he commented. "It's not like I have a job anymore and since the queen is deposed, there's no real need for my smuggling and information talents on behalf of the Resistance."

"But what about your family and friends?"

The question took him off guard, though he was not quite sure why. It was a logical thing to ask. He had just spent so long sealing off his memories of his family that it was fairly unexpected to hear them mentioned. As for his friends, he could count the number of real friends he had on one hand and two of them he had made in the past few days.

"My family is gone, Alice," he confessed, his voice curiously numb.

"What?" She drew back, her face crumpling.

"My dad was executed when I was six. My baby sis got real sick and died when she was nine. We couldn't afford the medicine. And my mum…" He could not bring himself to say how his mother had died. The memory threatened to break forth, to spill out its grotesque and bloody contents, but with ease born of long practice, he shoved it back into the dark depths of his mind where it belonged. "She's gone, too," he ended up saying.

Alice stared at him, aghast. She gaped at him, utterly speechless for nearly five minutes. "My god, Hatter…That's horrible. How old were you when your mom died?"

"Fifteen," he answered. "Old enough to fend for myself, I guess." Somehow bitterness had slipped into his tone, bitterness bent towards not just that predicament his teenaged self had ended up in, but also towards his dead mother. "Guess that's something we have in common," he noted, his tone completely lacking in humor. "Both our lives completely changed forever at fifteen."

"Yeah, but at least I wasn't forced onto my own," she remarked, her eyes glittering with horror and sympathy. "Oh god, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

He forced his shoulders to shrug, though his muscles had all gone rigid as if the effort to push those images and memories away was not just a mental effort, but a physical one. "It's all right, Alice," he assured her. "It's in the past and I've let it go." Well, if by letting go one meant bottling it up and never thinking about it so he could focus on clawing his way towards survival.

"I always wanted a little sister or brother," Alice spoke up after a long stretch of silence. "But my parents had enough trouble getting pregnant with me. And then, of course, my dad disappeared. What was your sister's name?"

His throat constricted. "Katrina," he said. "We used to call her Kat." She had looked nothing like him for all that they had been born of the same parents. Where his eyes had been dark brown, hers had been as green as grass, and instead of dark hair hers had been a ruddy gold. He had no doubt that, had she been given the chance, she would have blossomed into a stunningly beautiful young woman.

"So, yeah, you see, there's really not much tying me to Wonderland," he pointed out, swallowing back the emotions associated with his family's protracted demise.

His lady love gazed at him, her eyes full of love, compassion, and understanding. A few tears slipped down her pale cheek. He gently rubbed his thumb underneath her eye, catching another tear. "Hey, now, it's all right," he admonished kindly. "Don't feel sorry for me."

"It's not that," she objected, vehemently shaking her head. "It's just I can't believe all the heartbreak and tragedy you've had to endure at such a young age and…it makes me so proud of what you've become." She took both his hands, squeezing them gently. "I didn't think it was possible, but it makes me love you even more."

His organs did that strange flipping bit inside of him at her declaration of love. "What I've become? A double-crossing conman?" he joked.

She playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "Oh, come on. You know something like that could have broken you or…turned you onto a very dark path. But you fought and survived. You did what you could to keep yourself alive and you took on a very dangerous position," she waggled her finger at him as she spoke, "And don't give me that whole Dodo spiel. I can see that your position gave you some nice comforts; I mean this place is pretty damn nice, but I think that's acceptable compensation for the services you provided at the risk of losing your head."

Hatter cocked his head to the side. "Well, when you put it that way…" he said, thoughtfully stroking his chin.

"Hatter, if you're going to be my boyfriend, you need to learn something: the girl is always right," she quipped, grinning cheekily.

"Oh, really?" he scoffed.

"Besides, you did more to win this war than Dodo ever has hiding underground, I'll bet," she remarked sagely.

"That is true," he agreed, smirking. "Blimey but would I love to see his face now. When he hears—that is, if he hasn't already—that we took down the queen," at the expression on her face he amended it to, "well us and that daft old coot in the armor and your dad, Dodo's gonna blow his top." A troubled frown formed on his brow. "Hmmm, that'd probably give him even more reason to hate me, come to think of it. Probably would be better for my health to go to your hellmouth and face hellspawn."

Alice raised an eyebrow at him. "And you're sure living in a place full of hellspawn is worth being with me?"

His first instinct was to respond to that loaded question with a typical Hatter-style joke, completely brushing off the serious nature and covering it with humor. Instead, he clamped down on the humorous quips, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Her soft body molded to his completely, making his previously cooled libido sizzle and crackle with newfound heat. He resisted the urge to run his hands along her lovely firm buttocks. "Of course it is," he whispered, leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. "Besides, I think life would be rather dull without you and I don't do well with boredom," he added once he managed to pull himself from her lips.

By the Cheshire, she looked so delectably beautiful. Her skin was flushed, the slight, rosy tinge starting with her pale cheeks and spreading down to her chest. Her smooth pink lips were parted slightly, swollen and darkened from his ministrations. Thinking of those lips made him think of a slightly different set of lips he had not had the privilege of seeing or playing with yet. His trousers started to become painfully tight as blood and heat started to pool in his belly and head southwards.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, kissing her brow and cheeks. "The things I want to do to you. I really wish I did have those whatsits you talked about." It was quite miraculous he was able to think about that at all, for there surely was no blood flowing to his brain. And while the idea of putting some silly rubber sheath over his cock seemed preposterous, if it meant he could truly have her, he would have snapped that thing on in a heartbeat.

Alice's hands roamed up his shirt, her fingernails grazing against his bare skin, coaxing his already taut erection to fruition. It was amazing how much she could arouse him in the space of a few heartbeats. None of the girls he had been with before had ever been so enticing, so sweetly seductive. And Alice did it without even trying. Her explorative hands were not exactly untutored, but they had a flavor of innocence to them quite lacking in many of his other bed partners. Of course, more than a few of those girls had been…professionals.

_Probably best not to mention that, _the part of his mind that had not been completely clouded with lust muttered.

His brain almost blanked out when she started deftly unbuttoning his shirt. Against all odds, his cock grew even harder when she started covering his bare chest with light kisses, little wisps of breath tickling his skin and the sparse patch of chest hair on his sternum.

"Alice," he moaned; his voice thick with desire, "you…god you better stop with that…" His eyes fluttered shut when she slowly dragged her tongue up his neck and lightly nipped at his sensitive pulse point.

"And why?" she asked in a sultry, husky voice. "Besides, I don't think he," her hand moved down to the jutting bulge in his trousers and her fingers curled around his straining cock, "wants me to."

"Because," he whimpered as tremors ran through his body, "because…" What was the reason for stopping again? All blood flow to his brain had been diverted. Lucid thought was impossible for him as she stroked his cock through his trousers with one hand and drew her little sharp nails down his back with the other.

"I had a chat with someone else at Diamond Manor," she informed him cryptically, moving him backwards, inch by inch, towards the bed. That enigmatic smile returned. He had wondered what that smile was about, as if she were sitting on some big secret.

"Oh?"

They reached the bed. The backs of Hatter's thighs pressed up against the mattress. But they remained poised there, moving neither one way nor the other.

"Jack's fiancé, it turns out, is pretty awesome," she said while undoing the buttons of his trousers with those ridiculously nimble fingers. "And she helped me out with a certain problem…"

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Okay, so to read the rest of this segment, you'll have to visit the newly published M-rated companion series titled **"Perfect Companions"** since this story is, for the most part, T-rated and it seemed kind of ridiculous to change the rating when we're so close to the end. So, just as I promised, I have decided to create a side-along or companion series to house the steamy scenes in between for this story and its upcoming sequel.

But please review this chapter and tell me what you thought—particularly my take on Hatter's past!


	32. Have Cake and Eat It

We're almost done! I hope you all enjoyed the companion piece for last chapter and thank you for reading it! I wanted to get this chapter out before I had to go into work tonight so I slaved over it all last night and today. I want to send special thanks to my regular reviewers: your continued support means the world to me and keeps me going! Thanks so much to those who have recently added my story to their favorites and/or alerts lists as well!

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**Chapter XXXI: **Have Cake…and Eat It

Alice awoke at some point in the day…or night, she was not sure, feeling more sated than she had ever believed possible. There was a pleasant, throbbing ache between her thighs, much like the burn she would feel after an intense work-out. A dreamy smile curled up the corners of her lips as she thought about her most recent "work-out".

She yawned, extending her limbs into a full body stretch. Her body was bare save for the thin white sheets covering the lower half of her form. Neither of the two had bothered with clothes since their first foray into carnal bliss. The thick down blanket had ended up on the floor at some point during their heated activities. The sheets had inevitably ended up stained, Alice's interest in keeping them pristine waning each time they enjoined. They were of fine quality, too; the equivalent of Egyptian cotton back in her world. The smooth texture felt heavenly against her naked skin.

"Morning, love," Hatter greeted brightly. He had his head propped up on his hand, his dark chocolate eyes raking over her with unbridled appreciation. His dark hair stuck up in multiple directions, even more untamed than usual. It was disarmingly sexy.

Alice smiled and took in her fill of Hatter's sleek nude form. His body was lean and wiry, not overly muscular and bulky. It showed that, whatever comforts he had had in life, he had never been completely idle. There was ample visual evidence that he was in good shape, not to mention the delightful ways he had demonstrated his physical prowess earlier. Her eyes traveled down the landscape of his body, feasting on its glory like a glutton. She especially loved that little trail of dark hair, starting at his navel and trailing down to meld with the more substantial thatch of dark hair at his crotch. The "Happy Trail", she called it.

"Is it morning?" she asked, reaching up to inspect the state of her hair. The thick brown tresses were tangled and disheveled. It would take far more than a simple brushing to tame them. She did not expect her sex hair looked nearly as attractive as Hatter's.

"Honestly, I don't know," he replied while maneuvering around so that she was lying half on top of him, subtly slipping the sheets off of her lower half to unveil her full nudity. "Either way, it's the best morning, afternoon, or evening I've ever had." He slid his hands up over her butt, causing her to shiver agreeably.

This was a new experience for her. Whenever she had spent a night with previous boyfriends, it had rarely consisted of literally sleeping next to them. She would usually gather up her things after the sex was concluded and be on her merry way. Sex was the easy part, but intimacy was something she had found herself woefully inept at. Even when she had slept in the same bed as a former paramour, the experience had always been very uncomfortable for her and the sleep was not very restful. She had certainly never cuddled up next to them. But again Hatter had proven himself to be the wild card, the one that stood apart even though she had known him for less than a week by her reckoning. Even before sex had been involved (though not by lack of trying on the part of both parties) she had spent two nights in Hatter's embrace. She had never slept better. It made her unthinkably happy that she only had more nights with him to look forward to.

"I hope no one needed us for…a while," she commented while throwing a sheepish look towards the stairway leading up to his office. She idly wondered if that tiny man Dormie was still up there. If he was still up there waiting for them to return from their "chat", he had been in for a long wait. And by the way Hatter's hands had started to hungrily roam over her skin the wait would be even longer still. Shocks of pleasure coursed through her, inciting a tingling sensation in between her thighs. The flames of desire were stoked by his skilled fingers. But then, out of the blue, his movements stopped at her lower abdomen.

"How did this happen?"

Her brow knitted together and she glanced down at where his hand rested, perplexed both by the question and the ominous tone it was couched in. Then she saw the gleam of white scar tissue against the slightly darker shade of her natural skin tone. He was inquiring about the scar just below her navel. It was not her only scar, but this one was of particular significance. There was little appeal in traversing that morbid part of memory lane. But once she met Hatter's distressed gaze, she sighed.

"My first battle scar," she explained. "I, uh, met with the business end of an Ubervamp's sword during the last fight against the First Evil." The creature had also taken a sizable chunk of flesh out of her left shoulder. Strange that Hatter had not commented on the misshapen scar that wound had left behind.

He swallowed, his dark eyes flickering with unseen thoughts. "They had swords?"

She nodded solemnly. "That in addition to be stronger and harder to kill than your normal, run-of-the-mill vamp…yeah, they had swords." The image of the Turok-Han army swarming up from the bowels of the hellmouth was imprinted onto her brain and sent a wholly different kind of shiver through her body. "And numbers; lots and lots of numbers."

His gaze flitted down to the scar while his fingers ghosted over it. "But you kept fighting, didn't you?"

"Well, I tried," she said dryly. "Turns out it's not all that easy to wield a sword and keep your insides from falling out at the same time. I was just lucky Willow had done the spell to make me a Slayer, otherwise…" She let the unfinished statement hang there. Hatter knew well enough by now to know what would have happened had she not been imbued with the ancient power of the Slayer. The wound would have killed her.

He pursed his lips and nodded curtly. Her gut convulsed at the disquieted expression on his handsome features. Was he reconsidering his plan to come back with her to Cleveland? Part of her did not think it would be such a bad idea if he did decide to stay in Wonderland. The hellmouth was a dangerous place and she shuddered at the idea of all the trouble her lover could get himself into. But the despair she felt over being parted from him edged out any reservations she had over the idea of him dwelling on a hellmouth.

"But, hey, you know, my world isn't all about fighting hellspawn and getting gutted," she pointed out, figuring that it was time she emphasized some of the more positive aspects of her world. "We have good things, too."

Hatter cocked an eyebrow, intrigued but still skeptical. She realized she probably had painted her world in a somewhat more morbid light than was fair. Guarding a hellmouth did have a tendency to taint one's view of the world. But there were many facets to her world, good aspects that made all the blood, sweat, and death worth it. This was the time to make him see that he was not going to be leaving his life in Wonderland for a life of unending battles and hardships.

"For instance, Mr. Sweet Tooth," she began, referencing the fact that the only food he had stored here in his nook were pastries and tarts with not a real fruit or vegetable in sight, "there is an entire amusement park dedicated to a chocolate bar. You can even ride through the chocolate factory."

"Really? An amusement park?" he said thoughtfully. "What's so amusing about it?"

Alice launched into an animated explanation of theme park rides which served to pique her new boyfriend's interest quite a bit. She made a mental note to make a trip to Hershey Park sometime with Hatter. Other topics sprouted up in the heels of each other, all of them encompassing the far more enjoyable characteristics of her world. Hatter's troubled mood brought on by the grim tale behind her scar was eventually dislodged by one of tenuous anticipation. He seemed especially pleased by the invitation to peruse her substantial book collection. That was to say nothing of the enchanted wonder on his face when she explained the concept of motion pictures. Movies were easier for him to grasp since he had a passing familiarity with theatre, though, as she understood it, all independent art had been radically outlawed by the Queen of Hearts. Art in all its many forms had the ability to elicit emotions. Just as wisdom had been a threat to her control through quick fixes and instant gratification, so had painting, music, dancing, play-acting, and literature.

"Well, she certainly had a way of sucking all the wonder out of Wonderland," Alice noted wryly.

"That she did," Hatter agreed, nodding his head. "Well, your world doesn't sound half so bad now." He gave her a sardonic smile. "What was it you said about this peetsah stuff? Is it really just some bread with tomato sauce and cheese?"

She laughed at the way he pronounced the word so phonetically. "Well, you can put other toppings on there," she readily explained. "I personally like some mushrooms, onions, green peppers, and pineapple on mine. You'll like it, trust me."

"If you say so," said Hatter somewhat dubiously. "Anyway, I wouldn't care even if your world was just full of hellspawn and those horrid…STD things you told me about." He smirked at the heat on her cheeks which was no doubt manifesting into a red-faced expression. Then his demeanor grew more intense, his eyes locking onto her, filled with meaning. "All I care about is being with you. If living on the mouth of hell is what it takes, then I say bring it on. You're the only thing that matters."

He spoke with such tender conviction that Alice felt her heart leap and melt all at the same time. A pressure built up in her sinuses, causing her to blink back the sudden wetness afflicting her eyes. Her throat felt curiously clogged, which was actually a good thing since she could not think of any response to those sweet, heartfelt words which could possibly be adequate. All she could do was just wonder over what amazing deeds she had done to deserve the love of someone like Hatter.

_Help save the world a few times?_ a voice, which sounded suspiciously like the Cheshire, whispered in her mind.

"So, when do you want to leave?" he asked while stroking her hair.

Truthfully, she had not given her—and now Hatter's—eventual departure much thought other than that it was happening at some point. Their naked gymnastics had been an excellent form of distraction. But now she realized not only would they have to decide when they were leaving, but she would also have to figure out how to explain things to her mother once they arrived back in her world. Her father had assured her they could send her back to relatively the same time when she had first gone through the Looking Glass on her side. But, considering that her dress was ripped, she was sporting some injuries, and she would have a new boyfriend in tow, seamlessly integrating back into her life as if nothing had occurred was not really a viable option. Her mother would demand explanations.

And then there was the task of explaining to her mother how her father had been alive in a different dimension, bereft of his memories and serving the will of an atrocious tyrant. If she managed to bring her mother around to swallowing that bizarre information, then she may as well just come clean about being a Vampire Slayer. There really was no point in keeping it secret any longer. Besides, knowing the truth of one bizarre story may help clear the mental barriers which would hinder the acceptance of another strange tale.

"Alice? You all right, love?" Hatter was gazing at her with concern.

"I was just thinking about how…uh…tricky this will be to explain to my mother," she admitted with a heavy sigh. "She's open-minded, but stuff like this tends to require some extreme mental rearranging. Be prepared for the possibility that she initially may want to have one or both of us committed to a mental hospital."

"You're going to tell her the truth about where you've been…about where I'm from?" he asked, clearly surprised by the idea. He did not sound as if he disapproved. If anything, he seemed to support it.

Alice thought about the emotional trauma she had put her mother through when she left with Mr. Giles to go to Sunnydale leaving little more than a vague note. A vague note and some even vaguer letters that in no way blunted the agony her mother had gone through during those months of Alice's absence. Guilt twisted her gut. "I've lied to her for long enough. It's time I came clean about everything."

She just hoped it would not end up with her mother kicking her out of the house as Buffy's mother had done once she learned the truth behind her daughter's nightly activities. But at least Alice had the means to get a place of her own. She just did not want there to be a rift between her and the person whom she cherished most in the world next to Hatter.

"Everything?" Hatter's eyes lit up with realization. "Oh, you mean about being a Slayer, too." He grasped her hand and brought it up to his mouth to kiss it. "That's good, love. Your mum does deserve to know the truth. And don't worry," he paused to throw her a roguish grin, "I'm sure my presence will help soften the blow. I'll have your mum so charmed by my accent, style, and good looks that she won't care where you got me."

Alice lifted an eyebrow and just shook her head, though she could not exactly deny the truth of that statement. Hatter certainly had a way with words. Combined with his charismatic demeanor, he could probably charm himself out of (or in to) many situations. "Well, someone's a wee bit full of himself," she said.

Hatter's response was to grin seductively and roll her over on to her back, pushing her thighs apart to settle between them. She gasped as his prominent erection brushed up against her inner thigh, making her womb vibrate with anticipation. "Actually, I'd rather it was _you_ who was full of myself, don't you?" he whispered in a voice filled with heat and desire.

She emphatically nodded her head in agreement.

* * *

They finally emerged to the surface world to find that they had in fact spent all of the previous day and part of the night engaging in carnal delights. It was now early morning and poor Dormie had fallen asleep on the ground in front of the desk waiting for them to return. As for the two Suits who had been assigned as Alice's needless bodyguards, there had apparently been a shift change and two different men stood sentry on the front porch of the ransacked tea shop. And by standing sentry, they were seated, playing cards, smoking cigarettes, and exchanging bawdy jokes.

Alice looked down at the slumbering form of Dormie in bemusement. "Should we wake him? I mean, he's kind of sleeping in the dirt." It looked really uncomfortable, but she had seen him fall asleep while standing at a podium.

"Well, if my sofa hadn't been knicked he could have been sleeping on that," Hatter commented dryly. He threw a dirty look to the empty space where his sofa had once stood. "But, yeah, I guess we should wake him." He crouched down and gently shook the little man.

"Geroff…umpf," Dormie groaned, swatting at Hatter's hand.

"Come on, mate, we're back."

"Wha—Hatter?" Dormie groggily rubbed at his eyes and then pushed his squat body up. Hatter resumed his position next to Alice while the little man brushed himself off. He then regarded the two of them, his eyes narrowing. "That was a really long chat. I didn't know it would take all night."

"Well, we had a lot to talk about," Hatter replied, keeping his voice and expression mild. "A lot."

Dormie's gaze fell upon Alice with acute suspicion. Mortified, she turned her face away so he could not directly see her cheeks flush crimson. In her mind, it was practically stamped on her forehead that she had spent the better part of the previous day and part of the night having sex with Hatter. Not to mention the not-so-quickie they had indulged in just before coming up to the office.

"Dormie, I have some news for you," Hatter suddenly piped up, drawing the dwarfish man's attention to himself. "I'm going to be leaving Wonderland and I've decided to sign the deed of the shop over to you. Do with it whatever you want or sell it if you want."

Dormie was too stunned by those two revelations to speak for a few minutes. Alice had to admit she was shocked by the second part, for he had made no mention of his plans for the shop to her. Either he had just made the decision or he had just elected not to tell her. From the abrupt way in which he had spoken, it sounded as if he had just come to that decision on the spot. She supposed it made sense, though. Dormie had helped Hatter run the shop ergo he was the most sensible choice for being its new proprietor. The only question was: what would he do with it now that its previous form of commerce was defunct?

"What…g-give me the shop? Boss…are-are you serious?" Dormie stammered. "And what do you mean you're leaving? Where are you going?"

"I'm going with Alice to her world," Hatter answered. He took Alice's hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

Dormie gawked at him in disbelief. "To the oysters' world? Are you crazy? Why would you want to go there?" Then his gaze flicked down to their linked hands and he stared at that spectacle for a few moments, a frown of bewilderment which slowly merged into understanding on his wrinkly face. "Oh." He then scratched at the back of his neck, looking for all the world like he wanted to be elsewhere. "You two weren't just talking down there, were you?"

"None of your business," blurted Alice.

"Your cheeks are looking a bit rosy there, love," Hatter remarked, tweaking her nose with affection. He appeared to be completely unflustered by Dormie's question. In fact, he was smirking with pride.

"Well, uh, congratulations," the tiny man said, awkwardly rubbing his hands together, "I guess." He peered up at Hatter, his brow knitted into a frown. "Are you sure you want to give _me_ the shop?"

"I'd trust it to no one else, Dormie," Hatter told him warmly.

Dormie's mouth stretched out into a strange little smile, as if he was taken aback by the faith Hatter had in him. Then the two men embarked on a conversation concerning possible business ventures for the shop. Alice half-listened, as anything even remotely involving economic subjects tended to bore her to tears. Jack had fashioned himself an identity as a day trader, which had inadvertently turned out to be a smart choice. She had taken the least interest possible in his career, never leading her to discover that it, like everything else she thought she had known about him, had been a lie.

Instead she entertained herself with thoughts of integrating Hatter into her world. She smiled when she thought of the reaction he would garner from her fellow Slayers and their allies on the hellmouth. They, of course, would have little trouble accepting her story about Wonderland. For her strictly college and dojo friends and acquaintances, she would have to compose a plausible cover story. Leading a double life tended to create those kinds of complications. It was exasperating at times, but necessary.

The practical side of her mind began to impinge on all the fantasies about romantic dates she was envisioning. It reminded her that there were certain factors to take into account before she could safely bring Hatter to her world to stay. He was going to require documentation giving him an identity and an established life history. Not to mention he would need a place to stay. She contemplated having him stay with she and her mother, but their little townhouse only had two bedrooms and she was not certain her mother would be too keen on the idea. It was going to be bad enough that she showed up with a completely different boyfriend within hours of bringing Jack to meet her. Her mother had become rather desensitized to Alice's ever shifting love life, but this development was sure to raise an eyebrow. That the new boyfriend might essentially be homeless and have no traceable identity as far as the government was concerned would not win her over.

Besides, though she had made considerable strides in her relationship issues, she still balked at the idea of moving in with a man so early in a relationship. She decided not to dwell on the fact that she had spent the past three nights with him quite comfortably. But at least here she could use the excuse of having nowhere else to go.

With her connections, she could easily acquire all the things he would need to live comfortably in her world. But obtaining all those things before they even left would greatly expedite the assimilation process. And she knew just the person to go to for these matters. Although she knew Hatter would not like it.

She was right.

"Do we have to?" Hatter whined once she explained her plan to him.

"Well, no," Alice conceded, "I could just have it taken care of once we got to my world, but it makes more sense to go ahead and take care of it now, doesn't it? I mean he already has an apartment," she patently ignored the glower elicited by that remark, "and he had to get papers giving him a false identity. Jack spent months in my world. There's no way he didn't have official documentation otherwise he would have been booted out of there or locked up."

Hatter huffed in reluctant acquiescence. "All right, but I want a new bed for the place. And I'm probably going to want to redecorate. And I am sure as hell not going to take up his leftover false identity," he declared in a somewhat petulant tone. Alice could see he still fought the sensation of living in Jack's shadow. The shadow of a prince, though when Alice had been dating him she had not known he had been a prince, nor would she have cared.

"Fair enough," she replied. "In fact, I think you could actually keep your name. I assume Jack only had to take up a false last name because he was working for the Resistance. You're coming with me as a free man." Her brow furrowed as she considered something she had probably should have known a while ago. "Is Hatter your first name or last name? Is it even your real name?" It should have disturbed her that she had entered into a relationship with a man, even gone so far as being physically intimate with him, without even knowing his full name. But for some strange reason, it did not disconcert her in the least.

Her boyfriend grimaced. "Oh it's my last name, but I haven't gone by my first name since I was a kid. It's David."

"David?" Alice repeated flatly.

"Yeah, horrid isn't it?"

Alice shook her head. "No, it's just…not what I expected." She chuckled. "It just sounds so normal and…not you at all. But I don't see why you can't be David Hatter over in my world. Got a middle name?"

The grimace on his face deepened and he vehemently shook his head. "No, I refuse."

"Eugene!" piped up Dormie.

Hatter's face turned beet red, which was quite the new look for him. "You traitorous little git!" he yelled at the tiny man, who had retreated to the back wall. Turning to Alice, he let out a deep sigh and then said, "David Eugene Hatter, the Fourth. That's my full name. And if you tell anyone what my middle name is I'll deny it under pain of torture!"

Alice suppressed her urge to giggle and tried to keep her expression serious. "I'll take it to the grave."

"Thank you." He regarded her with a hopeful look in his eyes. "Do we really have to go talk to that ponce?"

Alice drew him into an embrace and patted his back. "Oh it won't be so bad. He owes you and me a big favor anyway. Besides," she pulled back to regard him with a mischievous smile, "we can see the duchess and get some more of that remedy. I think it's supposed to wear off soon."

Her eyes danced with amusement as she watched him absorb that thought. That seemed to mollify his dismay at visiting the new king of Wonderland considerably. In fact, once she mentioned that part, his eyes lit up and he practically dragged her out of the office, ordering those two Suits to ring up an airlift immediately.

* * *

Word of their impromptu visit arrived well ahead of time; courtesy of the fact that Wonderland had seen fit to adopt the technology of mobile phones (though she had yet to spot a tower to carry the signals, oddly enough). Just like yesterday, there was a greeting party standing in the central courtyard of Diamond Manor awaiting them. It made her cringe slightly with guilt, as her sharp eyes could see that Jack numbered among them and it made her feel bad she was probably taking him away from some important business with his severely troubled kingdom. Alice realized she was probably unfairly tapping into her status as one of the saviors of Wonderland or, as rumors would have it, the reincarnation of the Alice of Legend. But hopefully their requests would not take long to see through and then the new king to return to his royal duties.

"Alice, so good to see you again," Duchess Ilaena greeted warmly as they descended the ramp of the Scarab.

The two women embraced like old friends, earning a rather surprised, eye-widening expression from the king. He probably had not expected his ex-girlfriend and his fiancé whom he had betrayed with said ex-girlfriend to be on such friendly terms. No doubt he expected it boded ill for him in some respects.

"I did not expect to see you back here so soon," Ilaena commented with a wry, knowing glance in Hatter's direction. "I trust everything worked out."

"Oh yes," Alice replied, unable to keep the grin off her face, "very well. Thank you so much."

There was a subtle change in the duchess's demeanor. The frosty air had thawed somewhat and she seemed to be more relaxed, more amicable. It was very refreshing.

"It was my pleasure." The woman's eyes flitted towards Jack for the barest of moments before turning to Hatter. As was her duty as hostess, she glided over to the man to give him proper greeting. "Welcome to Diamond Manor, Hatter. We are very grateful for the valorous deeds you have committed in service to Wonderland. The kingdom will forever be in your and Alice's debts."

Alice noted that Jack tilted his head back and rolled his eyes at his fiancé's accolades toward Hatter. On Hatter's part, he just smirked in his typical fashion and proffered a deep bow, fluidly whisking his hat off his head in the process. "Thank you, Your Grace." She knew (and she suspected Ilaena knew as well) the gratitude was not just for the kind words.

The duchess did not reply to that remark, but merely smiled that knowledgeable smile and regally inclined her head. She then drifted back to allow Jack to step forward. Alice knew this was all part of some social etiquette, but it certainly ate up a lot of time paying heed to protocol. After Jack ran through his spiel of gratitude towards Hatter and Alice—which was not delivered with nearly the same degree of genuine warmth as the duchess's—she cut right to the chase.

"So, yeah, Hatter is coming back with me to my world and we're gonna need some help making him an official person…from my world," she bluntly announced.

Jack's eyes widened with both shock and consternation. "Going back with you? What?"

The duchess grinned at her from behind Jack as if she had suspected such a development all along. This was a woman who did not miss much. He really needed to get on the ball with making her his co-ruler. And to think he had at one point considered trying to start things anew with Alice. She did well enough commanding squads of Slayers and leading students, but to lead an entire country full of people was quite out of her league.

"Yes, he's coming back with me," Alice repeated gently, knowing that this probably did cut at Jack's already wounded heart. "And while I do have the means to get him papers and an identity and all that, I figured it would really simplify things if we just went ahead and took care of it here. I mean, I'm assuming you have ways to make that happen considering you spent months in my world as an operative of the Resistance." Unspoken was the part where he had spent months in her world lying to her about everything. It was unspoken, but Jack heard it all the same.

A contrite expression hovered on his face before he pushed it away and adopted what she supposed was his kingly mask. "Of course," he said tightly. "Let us go inside and we'll discuss the matter further."

There were oysters roaming through the halls this time and they threw out excited greetings upon seeing Alice and Hatter. She was touched that they recognized them as the ones who had woken them from their drug-induced stupors, saving them from a fate nearly worse than death. More than that, it was heartening to see that they seemed to be recovering from their ordeals better than she had anticipated. The human spirit was a lot tougher than she sometimes gave it credit for.

"Well isn't this a posh place," Hatter noted with appreciation.

"Yeah, just imagine trying to play hide and seek here," Alice said. "That game would go on for weeks, I bet."

"Oh, Alice, I thought you may want to know that your father is here," Ilaena informed her. "He arrived here not too long before you to work with your people. Some of them shall be ready to return home as early as tomorrow it seems."

"That's great," Alice replied. She was glad to hear her father was here, for she did want to inform him of her plans to bring Hatter with her. She also needed to know when he would be returning to their world so she had ample time to prepare for his arrival (i.e. finding a way to prepare her mother for the shock).

They filed into the same study Alice had talked with Jack in the day before, only this time Ilaena walked over to stand behind the chair where Jack sat. The stack of books had been cleared off the center desk and relocated to side tables. On the table there was a motley mixture of maps, charts, papers, pens, and, oddly enough, a little neon green stress ball. Jack must have noticed she was staring at it with bemusement.

"A souvenir from your world. I find my life has become a great deal more stressful of late," he explained wearily. He did not appear as haggard as he had yesterday, which meant someone (probably the duchess) convinced him to get some sleep.

"I can imagine," Alice quietly replied. She and Hatter settled themselves into the chairs in front of the desk, sinking into the plush ivory cushions.

"So, you require official papers granting…him…legal status in your world?" Jack said primly, directing his attention to Alice.

She bridled with annoyance at the way he seemed to be intent on ignoring Hatter's presence or even speaking his name. While she understood it probably pained him a great deal to see them together in a romantic capacity and to learn that he would be joining her in her world, it was childish and petty to continue to act in this manner. Certainly it was not befitting the image of a king. Hatter had been vital to knocking down the Queen of Hearts. He deserved more respect than that.

"I'm right here," Hatter piped up, evidently thinking along the same vein. "I may not be of noble birth, but I can understand you plainly."

From behind Jack, the duchess suppressed an amused smirk. The king fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, his hand reaching for the stress ball. Neon green oozed from in between his fingers as he tightly clenched it.

"You did promise me you would see he was well compensated, Jack," Alice reminded him sternly. "This is the way you can compensate him. Give him the means to live in my world; papers, ID, a place to live, and some starter funds. I figured you could just give him your apartment if the lease is still good. And I'm assuming you must have had a fairly substantial bank account. You did seem to have expensive tastes."

"Yes, but, Alice—" Jack griped, but the duchess laid a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.

"That sounds like an admirable plan to me, Dearest," she said in a sweet, imperious tone.

Jack had been expertly backed into a corner. He let out a great, resigned sigh and relinquished the stress ball to rub his temples. "Very well, I shall have those documents drafted up immediately. I can only give him a photographic ID, however. I myself did not procure a driver's license. The lease on the apartment is good for another four months. I will sign the bank accounts over to the identity we draw up for…" he reluctantly drew his attention to Hatter, "you."

"Perhaps you should secure additional funds as well, Jack. After all, he is one of the heroes of Wonderland," Ilaena suggested mildly.

"Do you want me to bloody support him?" Jack mumbled bitterly.

"Oh I'm sure I can find a job of my own in her world," Hatter replied nonchalantly. He did not seem to dislike the notion of additional starter funds, however.

"Anyway I make more than enough money to support the both of us," Alice pointed out.

"As a part-time martial arts instructor?" Jack said; his brow rose skeptically. Then he realized she was not talking about _that_ job. "Oh, right."

Even though the original Watchers Council had been destroyed, their wealth had survived. Apparently, the Council had been sitting on a proverbial pile of gold worth more than all the world's richest people and organizations combined. It enabled the successor organization to provide extremely ample stipends to all of its operatives. For a Slayer of Alice's rank and working in the hazardous conditions of a hellmouth, she was very well compensated.

They set upon drafting up a plausible identity and background that would ensure Hatter would not end up at the mercy of the immigration officials of the United States. Alice decided it would be best if they made his country of birth the United States to make him a natural citizen. To prevent him from having to adopt an American accent (for Alice just loved his natural accent), they simply fabricated a story of his family uprooting and moving to Yorkshire in the UK when he was very young. Jack griped about how much more complicated it would be to procure documents making him a dual citizen of the United Kingdom and the United States. But at the looks he received from his fiancé, Alice, and Hatter, he said no more on the matter.

"He will need to be medically cleared to go, as well," said Jack.

"Medically cleared?" Hatter repeated with trepidation.

"Yes, there are diseases in her world that you, as a Wonderland native, have never been exposed to. If you wish to actually live permanently in that realm, you must be inoculated against them. All operatives going to her world for an extended period of time, including myself, had to undergo the procedure. Since you will be living in the States, you will not have to receive quite so many vaccinations," the king clarified, clasping his hands together in front of him.

Hatter looked a little green in the face after hearing that information. Alice had not even thought about that, but she was glad Jack had overcome his petty jealousy enough to mention it. It would have been horrible to have him take ill from some obscure disease simply because he had never been vaccinated against it like virtually all schoolchildren in her world had.

"Does this mean I have to get a bunch of shots?" Hatter questioned her once they stepped outside the study, their business with Jack more or less concluded. After leaving here they would head straight to the Hospital of Dreams so he could receive the proper vaccinations. As for the papers which would grant him legal status in her world, Jack promised to have them ready by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.

"I'm afraid so." Alice took his hand and squeezed it. "It won't be so bad. I'll kiss them and make them better afterwards."

"Blimey, I had no idea coming to live with you was going to be so complicated," Hatter griped. "I thought we were just going to hop through the Looking Glass and…well, start up our fun, merry lives on the mouth of hell."

Alice chortled softly and linked her elbow through his as they walked down the sumptuous corridor. Before they left, they would seek out her father to tell him of the news. She was overcome by giddy excitement. Hatter was going to become a legal citizen of her world, of her country. For a while it seemed like the notion of him returning to her world with her was little more than a fanciful dream brought on by deluded wishful thinking. But it was real. She could scarcely contain the urge to dance in jubilation. The fact that her father would eventually be returning home was another layer of icing to this delicious cake.

"Alice," Hatter said in a low voice, leaning into her to whisper in her ear, "don't forget to ask the duchess about that…stuff before we leave. I think we may have some reasons to celebrate tonight."

Yes, for once they certainly did.

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed the women ganging up on Jack hehe.

Don't forget to review and feed my muse!


	33. The Wonders of Oysterland

Hi everyone I'm back! I am so sorry about the month-long gap in updating. I truly did not intend to leave it like that, but I had to postpone work on the story so I could really amp up the studying for my MCAT. Trust me, I did try to work on the story during that time but I was too distracted by physics, biology, and chemistry to write a decent chapter. But the test is over and now I get to be stranded in limbo for four weeks till I get my scores and I can't even start the actual application until May. So, in the meantime, let's return to the fun stuff, shall we?

I want to give a shout-out to **helikesitheymikey** who inspired some of the speculation we'll see in this chapter. Also, many thanks to **Alaina Downs** who made me feel not quite so bad about not being able to update during the time of study hell. She's almost done with her own story **"Firsts"** and I can't wait to see how it ends!

Hope you all enjoy this chapter. I think we've got maybe three left before this story is officially finished!

* * *

**Chapter XXXII: **The Wonders of Oysterland

After a night thoroughly celebrating the prospect of Hatter going to the oyster world with Alice, the two came out into his office in a state of bleary-eyed disorientation. Muscles were sore, skin had been marked, and the position of the sun was clearly showing that it was almost noon. Not that either of the two would have noticed. Their attention was instead drawn to the large rectangular envelope placed on Hatter's glass desk.

Hatter's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What's this?"

"Unfortunately, X-ray vision is not part of the Slayer package," Alice quipped as she strolled up to the desk and picked up the envelope. She flipped open the top and reached inside, pulling out a hefty packet of papers. Her eyes lit up with excitement. "They're your papers!"

He blinked, dumbfounded. "My papers?"

She snorted and held the packet up to him. "The papers that will make you a legal person of my world and country so we don't have issues with those crazy folk at Immigration."

Oh. _Those_ papers. He had to admit, he was somewhat surprised to see them sitting on his desk only a day after Alice and the duchess had jointly cajoled Jack into securing them. Either those two had extraordinary powers of persuasion (which was probably true regardless) or Jack was more efficient than Hatter had given him credit for.

Alice inventoried the packet while explaining each and every component to him. "Look you got a birth certificate-oh you're born in New York City like me! What a nice touch."

"New York City? Where is that? That's not the name of the place you live, is it?" questioned Hatter. What was the place where she said she lived again? It was probably something he ought to know, considering it was going to become the place where he lived as well.

"New York City is in the state of New York which borders the eastern seaboard of the United States," she explained. "I lived there until my dad got a job at Ohio State University at the Cleveland campus when I was two. I'll definitely have to take you there to visit sometime. I have a ton of relatives there anyway."

Hatter held up a hand to interject. "Wait…state? What do you mean by state? And seaboard…are you saying it's next to a sea?" Wonderland was landlocked and he knew virtually nothing of the lands which bordered it except that they were mostly untamed wilderness. He knew of oceans and seas merely on an academic basis, but had never had the fortune to see such vast bodies of water. The largest body of water he was acquainted with was the lake.

"Well, technically it's the ocean; Atlantic Ocean to be exact. And a state is…uh…" She frowned while searching for a way to explain in language that he would hopefully understand. "It's kind of a separate little country of its own with its own government, but at the same time being part of an entire nation. In my country we have fifty states, but all those states make up the entire country. Hence, it's called the United _States_ of America."

Hatter arched an eyebrow at her. "That seems highly confusing," was his dry comment.

Alice laughed while nodding her head in agreement. "Kind of. But not nearly as confusing as our political system. Don't even ask me to try to explain that. I've lived there for almost twenty-two years and I still don't really get it."

They perused through the rest of the packet. In addition to the birth certificate (an idea Hatter found somewhat confounding for why would one need a certificate declaring one was born? Was not the existence of a person enough proof of that?), there was something Alice called a passport. This little black booklet would apparently enable him to travel to different countries. And, just as Alice had requested, there was also documentation showing his residency change to a place called Bradford, West Yorkshire, England, UK. Why did oysters insist on having so many different names for a single place? It seemed to complicate things immensely.

There were more papers showing his dual citizenship of the United States and the United Kingdom, which seemed like nearly the same place to him until Alice disabused him of the notion. There were also school records, a little blue card detailing a nine-digit number he learned was to be his "social security number" and a strange little plastic card with his picture and yet _another_ address on it. At least now that explained why he had been forced to have a photograph taken. That was something he had never experienced before and had only vaguely heard about. The passport seemed to include the same photo and address once he opened the cover.

"So the place on this card is where I live now? Cleveland, Ohio, like where you live?" he asked Alice while inspecting the card with a dubious eye.

"Yep," she told him.

"I seem to have a lot to memorize," he griped, casting a resentful glare at the packet which held his new identity. He knew these things were necessary. Alice would not have been so keen on their acquisition if these documents were trivial. But it gave him a roaring headache even thinking about attempting to absorb all these facts and knowledge most people in her world would know about themselves instinctively. These were details he would be expected to call upon at whim.

"It'll be okay. At least most of the people I hang out with will know your real identity so that should help take some of the edge off," she assured him.

"You're going to tell your Slayer mates that I come from a world out of a children's story?" he asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

Alice cocked her head to the side, her lips tightening into a small smirk. "Sweetie, we make a living fighting and killing mythical creatures and we live on top of a mystical convergence of evil. They'll swallow it." She squeezed his hand. "Besides, one of our best associates is from a different dimension anyway. You'll be in good company."

"You oysters sure do like to make things complicated," he noted with bemused exasperation.

Alice shrugged noncommittally. "Curse of the modern world, I'm afraid. You get used to it. Word of advice, though; try to phase out calling my people 'oysters'. I don't think most people where I'm from would take kindly to being called that."

He could see the wisdom in that statement. Many of his acquaintances were likely to be a bunch of women who possessed the same powers as Alice—meaning they were fully capable of trouncing him without breaking a sweat. It probably was best for his health to try to stay on their good sides.

The other items in the envelope alleviated his chagrin at the thought of having to memorize all these different details about himself. There was a key which Alice identified as the key to the apartment Jack had used during his time in Alice's world. Even better, there were also papers which she declared would give him access to Jack's bank accounts and a smaller, slimmer piece of paper she called a check. This check, as his girlfriend described, was like some enchanted document that would magically deposit more money into these accounts. Now that was definitely an aspect of the oyster world he could find himself becoming used to.

"How does it do that?" he asked eagerly as he wove the check around.

"Uh…how about we save the financial lessons for another time," Alice said briskly.

She gathered up all the items and stowed them back in the envelope. Then she set it back down on the desk and turned to face Hatter, her eyes swimming with unfettered joy. "Wow, this is really happening," she murmured in wonder. Then her expression wavered, her eyes dimming with reservation and worry. "Are you completely sure about this? I mean, it's going to be a big change for you."

Hatter took both her hands in his, intertwining his fingers through hers. He smiled reassuringly and brought his face up close to hers so that his forehead rested against her own. "I've never been more certain of anything in my life than you, Alice," he declared softly. "And, as I said before, there isn't really much holding me here. If you're not here, then there's nothing holding me here."

She drew in a deep breath, her trembling lips forming a slightly bashful smile. "You mean that?" Those perfect blue eyes glimmered with moisture.

"Well, a pretty girl in a wet blue dress is hard to come by in these parts. Wouldn't want to lose such a rare little pearl so soon after catching one," he jokingly replied. His fingers detached from her hand and began walking across the crests of her hips to the inward curve of the small of her back.

Alice's cheek muscles twitched in a losing battle with a smile. He fixated upon those smooth pink lips, remembering how they had driven him to such incredible heights of sensation and love. They were so lovely in their craftsmanship, perfectly sized and shaped just like the rest of her body. They felt like silk against his skin, silk dipped in oil. How in all of Wonderland had he, an impoverished orphan turned tea shop owner, become worthy of the affections of such a captivating, beautiful woman such as herself? His past sins and vices, many of them quite recent, surely had done nothing to earn such an unexpected gift. While he had been supplying the drugs which had led to the decline of Wonderland society she had been putting her life on the line to protect and save a population of unknowing strangers. She had helped save her world from ruin while he had passively encouraged ruin to seep into his (in his view, anyway). He did not think he could ever completely forgive himself for the part he had played in the former queen's schemes, no matter that his role had ended up being a pivotal one in the end. Alice had taught him that the ends did not always justify the means. Just because he had helped dethrone the Queen of Hearts and end her suffocating reign did not absolve him of the stain of his actions during her reign.

But Alice had this uncanny ability to make him feel as if he was someone worthy of her love. She knew of his disreputable past…well, parts of it anyway. She had unhesitatingly accepted those sordid pieces. Even more extraordinary, she had pushed past them to unveil the man beneath. Where he saw fault, she saw a strange sort of virtue. Where he saw cowardice, she declared it a durable brand of courage. Her insightfulness filled him with a tender, unfamiliar feeling of approval. Whether or not he deserved it, he did not want that feeling to disappear. The only feeling he reveled in more was the feeling of his love for her, magnified in the reflection of her love for him.

"So…tomorrow," Alice said softly.

"Tomorrow," Hatter repeated.

Tomorrow was the day the first group of oysters would be taken to the Looking Glass Hall and sent back to their world. Since those men and women had no recollection of their first trip through the Looking Glass, they were understandably nervous about stepping into a mirror as a way to return home. Alice, who was starting to accumulate a sort of hero-worship regard from them, agreed to go through first and then immediately cross back over to show them the journey had done her no harm. Then she and Hatter would enter the portal for the one-way trip.

"Well, I hope the return journey won't be quite as bracing as the first. Especially considering there's no grassy area to cushion the fall on the other side," she commented with a grimace.

She had told him how her journey to Wonderland had resulted in a veritable crash landing in the lower parts of the Looking Glass Hall, completely knocking the wind from her. Hatter, who had never gone through the Looking Glass at all, had to admit he was rather intimidated by the notion. Alice had attempted to describe what the disorienting journey had been like. From the sounds of "tumbling around in an acid tripping rainbow tunnel", he should probably have a light breakfast.

A thought tugged at him, something that had been loosely rocking around in his mind but had been previously usurped by more important matters—such as a beautiful, naked young Slayer. "So, since I'm going to your world…" he prefaced, feeling curiously uncertain about voicing this concern, "I was wondering if you might teach me to use a sword properly and maybe how to fight like you."

"What?" Alice gazed at him, her forehead knitted into a frown of bafflement. Her blue eyes grew restive and tense. "Why? You already know how to fight. I've seen you."

"Well, yeah," Hatter said slowly, scratching the back of his head, "when it's against humans. I mean teach me to fight as if I were going to fight demons and vampires. At least teach me to use a sword so I don't bungle up another rescue attempt like the last one."

"Oh, Hatter, that wasn't your fault." Alice's gaze softened and she approached him, cupping his cheeks with her hands and forcing him to look directly at her. "Sword or no sword, you were way too outnumbered. But you tried and, hey, it ended up working out anyway."

"No thanks to me," Hatter mumbled. The scenes of her fighting all those Suits and falling backwards off the cliff edge flashed in his mind's eye, reawakening all the horrible emotions associated with them. Memory was a powerful thing. Even though she was standing in front of him, alive and well, he could not completely shake off the sensation of an icy fist closing around his heart and his stomach being twisted into knots. He would give everything he owned if he could only purge those images from his memory.

Alice slowly ran her thumb across his cheekbone and then moved upward to trace a circle on his temple, soothing the anguished tempest inside of him. "If it weren't for you, I might have become the same empty shell as so many of my people had become," she told him gravely. "I think I'd prefer being dead over that."

She nudged him, her smile full of sweetness bordering upon the seductive. "It takes a lot more than a fall off a cliff to kill me, apparently. Face it," she sidled up closer to him, letting her hands drift down to brush along his back and then move southward to grasp the taut muscles of his buttocks, "I think you're going to be stuck with me for a long time…David."

The use of his birth name took him off guard. No one had called him that in years. In fact, the last person to call him David had been his mother. He had figured he would recoil at the sound of it. He was Hatter now. David no longer felt like a part of his identity. The name belonged to a completely different person—a young boy who had a family of his own once. He had thought that boy was gone, overrun by the need to survive and move on. Apparently, he was mistaken. For the sound of his birth name on Alice's lips filled him with an unprecedented flood of warmth.

_Alice is your family now,_ a voice whispered.

"Hmmmm, still not really seeing you as a 'David'. I think I like 'Hatter' better," she murmured thoughtfully. "It's unique." She pressed her limber form up against his and it immediately sent a tingling heat spiraling through his veins. His loins stirred with lustful anticipation.

"So…it's settled, then?" he asked, his voice becoming increasingly strained by the weight of his need for her.

"What's settled?" she asked distractedly, leaning in to suckle at the pulse point on his neck.

"You'll train me?"

Alice drew back, regarding him with a look of deep chagrin. If that playful mood was still there, it was well hidden. Hatter felt both his mood and his burgeoning erection deflate. He did not know why it seemed she was opposed to the idea. Surely it could only be to his advantage to know how to properly handle the dangers of a hellmouth. But he had forgotten that his girl was very perceptive. She must have sensed he had other motives for wanting to learn how to fight like a Slayer beyond simple self-defense.

Several moments passed in a pregnant silence. Hatter conjured up all the reasoning and arguments he could think of during that time. He did not intend to fashion himself into some sort of a demon hunter just so he could tag along with Alice and her fellow Slayers. But neither did he want to just be a helpless spectator doomed to watch and wait for his beloved to return from a battle…or wonder if she even would.

"Well, it definitely wouldn't hurt for you to know how to take out a demon or a vamp. And it's not like Slayers are the only ones who fight them," she finally conceded, her voice full of thoughtful hesitance. Her lustrous eyes slid down to his right arm. "And you have got that nifty right hook there."

Alice gently snatched up his right hand and inspected it, as if expecting to find that it was not a flesh and blood limb. "What's the deal behind this anyway?" she asked. "And why didn't you mention it before? I told you about _my_ superpowers."

He cringed at the reproach in her voice. It had not been his intent to keep the truth about his enhanced right arm from her. There just had never seemed to be an appropriate time for it. He did not even feel he could adequately explain the phenomenon behind the Sledgehammer because there was still so much he himself did not know. It was a mystery that had been with him since he had been a young lad.

"Honestly," he said, shaking his head, "I'm really not sure. It didn't turn up till I was about twelve or thirteen. My mum said it must have been something I inherited from my father's side of the family. But, of course, he was dead by that time and I never knew his family."

Alice's brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "Twelve or thirteen…so it manifested when you hit puberty, right?"

"Oh you mean that fun time when your voice starts cracking and you start mucking up the sheets every night," he deadpanned, grinning as she rolled her eyes, "yeah, only I was so special I got myself a super-empowered right fist, too."

She pressed her finger tips into the palm of his hand, massaging the muscles and strumming the tendons of his knuckles. "Sounds like it's a genetic trait," she mused as her eyes continued to scrutinize every inch of his right hand. "It's possible your sister may have ended up having a Sledgehammer if she had lived long enough."

He had never considered that. "You think?"

Alice shrugged, relinquishing his hand and pushing tendrils of dark hair behind her ears. "Well, yeah. I mean, that is, if it's not something specific to males only, which is impossible to know at the moment. Maybe it's something we could find out in my world." She grinned widely. "It's really kind of fascinating. Hell, my father would probably love to make a study of your arm."

Hatter was not certain he fancied the notion of him or any part of him being studied in that manner. He much preferred being studied by Alice for completely recreational purposes.

"It's not _that_ fascinating. You're strong all over," he countered.

"Yeah, but my powers aren't genetically based. They're of mystical origin," she explained. "If we have kids, I won't be passing on my super strength or any of my other Slayer powers. That's not how it works. But you, on the other hand…" Her words lapsed into silence. For some reason, her cheeks developed a pinkish plume and she bit down on her lip.

"Alice?" he questioned.

She exhaled nervously and ran her hand across her forehead, a tight expression passing over her features. "Sorry, didn't mean to let my mind go jetting off like that. It's a bit early to even begin thinking along those lines."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "What lines?" His brain then replayed what she had said about her powers not being genetic. More specifically, it focused on the part where she talked about kids—_their _kids. "Oh…" His dark brown eyes widened with understanding.

Fatherhood was a prospect which had only crossed his mind when he was hoping it was not the result of a casual liaison—the only kind of liaison Hatter had been familiar with prior to meeting Alice. But the possibility of conceiving a child with her made the prospect of fatherhood seem not quite as terrifying. In fact, the more his mind tasted the idea, the more appealing it became. He looked upon the woman he loved and felt his heart thud with excitement at the notion of a child of his and Alice's mingled blood.

"Yeah, um, anyway," Alice stammered, clearly still uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken and eager to redirect, "I'd be happy to train you. We have weekly training exercises and drills at the base headquarters that I'm in charge of, so you can observe those. I wouldn't recommend you outright joining in though, at least not at first."

"Why not? That sounds like it could be fun." Being of male origin, his brain immediately latched onto the image of sparring and wrestling with nubile young women, quickening the pulse in his veins with enthusiasm.

She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side, clearly having surmised the direction his thoughts had taken. "Tons of fun, especially when one of the girls cracks your sternum in two," she dryly intoned. "They're taught not to hold back in training and I'm not entirely confident in their abilities to rein in their strength against you. I, on the other hand, have experience in tempering my strength since I also teach regular people to fight."

"Why do you do that, anyway? I mean, you said you're a student as well. Sounds like a lot to have on your plate, love, what with saving the world and all," he pointed out.

Alice's expression faltered. "I like teaching martial arts to normal people because I think it's good for everyone to know how to defend themselves. Makes even more sense if you consider the fact that these people are living on a demon hotspot. The school thing, though…" She sighed heavily. "I think I did that more for Mom than for me, to be honest. She always wanted me to go to college and I didn't exactly have the heart to deny her. I guess I always felt like I had disappointed her by running off to Sunnydale and disappearing for a few months. And _both_ my parents were teachers." She shook her head, smiling ruefully. "My dad was an associate professor of biology and biochemistry at the university I attend and my mom teaches high school English at a private school. So, education was always kind of…important in my household."

"What do you study?" he asked.

The question provoked a spate of ironic laughter from her. "Everything and nothing," she admitted. "Although, I did recently add some classes for foreign languages and international relations. Slayers are from all over the world, so I figured, you know, those classes might actually have practical use."

"Wait, you have different languages where you come from? People actually _speak_ different languages?" Hatter asked, his dark brown eyes widening with shock.

"Many different languages," she replied, her forehead knitting into a skeptical frown. "Why, do you not have any other languages here?"

"Not for thousands of years. The way some of the books tell it, the people in ancient Wonderland decided it was too confusing and all the people were forced to adopt a single language."

"And that language just _happened_ to be English?" Alice commented sardonically.

"English? No, it's just the common language of Wonderland," he corrected her.

"Which is, apparently, English," she argued. "It's the official language of my country and the other country you will be from in my world."

Hatter smiled indulgently and slung his arm around Alice's slender shoulders. "Oh, silly Alice, you're all speaking the Wonderland tongue no matter what you want to call it."

"No," she stubbornly scoffed. "You guys must have picked up the language from one of the people from my world who got dropped down a rabbit hole. Maybe you all decided that language was cooler."

The good-natured argument continued for a long time in the same vein, neither of the two able to reach a consensus on the matter. Eventually, Alice held up a hand to indicate a ceasefire.

"Okay, it hurts my head too much to try to figure it out. Let's just add that to the list of things we'll probably never know the truth of and be done with it," she declared. She threw a look back towards the trap door leading down to his underground apartment. "What do you say we get something to eat from your impressive collection of junk food and then have some more celebratory sex?"

Now that was something Hatter was definitely not going to argue.

* * *

_(And, yes, I totally used Andrew Lee Potts's birthplace as the place where Hatter would have grown up in our world.)_

Stay tuned, because next time we go back through the Looking Glass! And, once again, I'm real sorry for taking so long to get this chapter out. Hopefully there will be a companion piece along to make up for it.

Please tell me what you thought!


	34. Through the Looking Glass, Again

So I spoiled you guys with the last few fluffy/smutty chapters. This ought to balance it out. Many thanks to my readers and reviewers. Welcome to those who added me to their favorites/alerts so late in the game and thanks for taking a chance on this giant :). Also, special thanks to my regular reviewers! And Happy Easter! Oh and make sure to check out the companion piece set in between this chapter the previous one in **"Perfect Companions"**

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**Chapter XXXIII: **Through the Looking Glass…Again

Alice nervously tugged at the sleeve of the purple velvet coat as she stood next to Hatter within the majestic Looking Glass Hall. Compared to all the other buildings in Wonderland, this one seemed to have received lavish attention and care. The walls consisted of elegant panels of mahogany. Lovely stained glass windows overlooked a smoothly revolving door. There was a large clock set upon the front wall, the minute and hour hands spinning slowly as if to show just how truly this area disregarded the rules of time. Even the stone walls of the outside had gleamed like a diamond amidst a pile of coals. It stood out starkly amidst the crumbling, squalid, mostly abandoned areas of the city. She supposed that since it housed the very object which had supported the monstrosity that was Wonderland's former economy, it had warranted special consideration.

"This is definitely not where I ended up when I came through," she commented, drawing her gaze over to the Looking Glass itself.

Save for the much grander surroundings, this one looked nearly identical to the one on her side. It was the centerpiece of the room, set upon a raised dais with a small stairway in front of it. A lanky technician clothed in white plastic lab regalia stood by a small operating pad next to the portal. She wondered where the Stone of Wonderland, the Looking Glass's power source, was supposed to go.

"Where did you end up?" Hatter asked.

She shrugged, grimacing at the memory of having to trudge through dirty, ankle-deep water when she had first arrived in Wonderland. "A horror movie hallway with a huge plumbing and electrical problem, so, it was probably the basement. This would have been way nicer."

"It could have been a side effect of the Looking Glass losing power without the ring. You were lucky you managed to come through at all," her father pointed out. He had arrived at the Looking Glass Hall well before her and Hatter, eager to see the first batch of oysters off to their world.

Alice shuddered at the thought of becoming stuck in that disorienting transitional plane. It had been horrible enough spending a few seconds there as it was. Spending more time than that would surely make one go mad.

"So when are the rest arriving?" Hatter inquired of her father.

"Should be any moment now," Robert replied, glancing at the unmoving revolving doors.

Jack and the duchess were to be arriving with the oysters to personally oversee their return to their own world. It was nearly noon already, but Alice had only figured that out by the position of the sun. Wonderland did not measure time in the way that her world did. In fact, it did not seem as if they measured time at all. Things happened when they happened, no sooner and no later. It was very frustrating to a girl like Alice, who placed a lot of value on schedules and punctuality.

They had spent most of the morning at Hatter's flat trying to decide what he should bring. By her estimation, it had taken several hours for him to sift through his extensive collection of silk shirts, trousers, hats, shoes, and ties. Alice had eventually convinced him to just buy new shoes in her world. The man did not own a single scrap of underclothing. She decided that was a quirk she could live with. Eventually, they had ended up with two bags of clothes and his tea kettle. It was a lucky tea kettle, apparently. So it could not be left behind.

"Dad," Alice said, turning to face her father, "remember the date we agreed on and do not, under any circumstances, come through that thing at night."

She had not had a chance to fully explain the nature of her abilities or the truth about Cleveland to him. The one time she had tried to broach the topic she had been interrupted and another opportunity had never really arisen. He had immersed himself with helping undo the damage done to their own people and the people of Wonderland by the former queen's regime. The explanations would have to be saved for after his return home. She and Hatter would be returning to her world a mere hour or so after she had originally gone through the Looking Glass by her world's reckoning. They had agreed that he would return two weeks later while she and Hatter would be there to greet him. There was still a lot about this time dysfunction she did not understand. It made her head spin to think on it too much. The way her father told it, there was no way to judge how much time would pass in Wonderland. Alice told him to try not to let years pass by. After all, his body would still physically age.

"Your mother…" Robert stammered, clenching his hands.

"Leave Mom to me," Alice assured him with far more confidence than she felt. While she was happy to be seeing her mother again, she was not looking forward to trying to explain everything to her. Challenging deeply ingrained beliefs was never easy. There was no way to predict how her mother would react.

"From what Alice tells me, she'll just be happy to know you're alive," Hatter added, linking his hand with Alice's and squeezing it supportively. That simple gesture communicated that he understood the doubts and fears running through her head and that he was here for her, every step of the way.

Robert gave him a small smile, dipping his head in gratitude.

"Lady Alice! Harbinger!"

Charlie's shout came from behind. Alice and Hatter turned to see their friend practically bouncing across the floor from the revolving doors. He was not wearing any plate armor for a change, trading in the cumbersome load for a shiny chainmail shirt. The tiny metal links clinked with every move.

"Charlie, you made it," Alice greeted with obvious delight and affection. She stepped forward to embrace the tall old man.

"Well, of course I did. I would not miss the chance to say farewell to Wonderland's valiant heroine!" the knight insisted.

"And hero," Alice added, motioning towards Hatter.

"Yes, of course, and hero," Charlie said, inclining his head towards the younger man with an infectious grin. "I am happy to see you are returning with her, Harbinger. I've no doubt you will guard her well against the foul beasts which roam her lands." Those pale blue eyes grew serious and mournful. "'Tis a shame that I cannot go to offer my own services. Alas, my place is here in Wonderland."

"Foul beasts? Alice, what is he talking about?" her father cut in, eyes wide with concern.

"Um…" Alice struggled to think of a short but appropriate response. "Well, that's kind of the reason why you're not allowed to come through at night."

Robert raised an eyebrow at her. "This has to do with your…abilities, doesn't it?"

She pursed her lips, eyes flitting to the revolving door which had just started to spin again. "I'll explain more when you get back home. But, yeah, it does have to do with that."

The man pressed his palm up against his forehead, shaking his head and sighing heavily. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this explanation?"

"Because you won't," Hatter mumbled darkly.

Robert's eyes rested upon Alice, roiling with concern and a fledgling sense of fearful comprehension. Her father was a smart man so there was no doubt that he was already working out some of the explanations for himself. But there would be no time to confirm his steadily growing suspicions.

Jack and Ilaena had just come through the door with a full contingent of Suits flanking them as bodyguards. The royal couple did not have their arms linked, but Alice noticed the two walked very closely, the duchess's head inclined slightly towards Jack just as his was cocked slightly towards her. It was a subtle, but definite, sign that relations between them had improved. Alice hoped things would only get better from there. Jack would need a strong, capable partner to help him take up the leadership of a shattered realm and make it whole once more. There was no better person for it than the duchess.

Then the oysters came through the doors in a steady stream. Once they all were in the hall, they immediately clustered into a tightly packed knot. The group brimmed with cagey anticipation. They were eager to be returned home to their loved ones, but were also understandably wary of the method of travel. They were also likely worried about the reception they would receive from their loved ones. Alice felt she could commiserate with them on the latter issue.

"Alice, Hatter," Jack greeted with a regal nod of his head. He was dressed in a crisp crimson suit jacket, pressed white shirt, black tie, and black slacks. It was practically the same outfit he had worn that day in the throne room when she had discovered who he truly was. There was no crown, signet ring, sash, or anything to indicate his royal status save for the color he wore. The duchess, in contrast, wore a lovely, modest gown of ivory. Her abundance of golden tresses was piled up into a silk mesh caul with what were likely actual diamonds studded throughout the fabric.

"Come to see us off?" Hatter asked brightly, unable to contain his wide grin.

Jack half-smiled. If there was bitterness in the young king, he cloaked it well beneath his royal exterior.

The duchess stepped forward to clasp both of Alice's hands. Her green-hazel eyes were warmly appraising with just a touch of sorrow. "I am sorry to see you go, Alice, but I am glad I have met you in spite of…" her eyes flitted to Jack for a brief instance, "the strange circumstances."

Alice shifted guiltily, for she knew exactly what circumstances the other woman spoke of. It was startling how gracious Ilaena had been about it. She did not know if she could command the same affability had their positions been reversed.

"It's a pity you two cannot stay for Jack's coronation," Ilaena continued. "Although it will be somewhat of an understated affair, things being what they are."

Pleasantries and farewells were exchanged with genuine fondness-excepting perhaps the fractious exchange between Jack and Hatter. Alice supposed that kingly reserve did have its limits. She had the feeling that Hatter was still working off some of his resentment towards Jack's previous attitudes and actions regarding him and Alice. Then Jack turned towards the nervous pack of people who were waiting to return home, eyeing the Looking Glass with obvious doubt.

He cleared his throat and spread his arms wide, adopting a humble posture to ingratiate himself towards the people his mother had deeply wronged. "Everyone, once more I extend my deepest apologies and regrets for what has happened to you all under my mother's regime. I know nothing can be done to permanently erase the effects of what was done to you, but I pledge today that no more of you or your people shall be subjected to the same inhumane treatment. We are sending you home today the same way you were brought here and I hope you are all able to return to the normalcy of your lives and families." He rotated to gesture towards the Looking Glass. "I understand you have some reservations about traveling through this device. As a show of good faith, Alice," he paused to point to the girl, who waved awkwardly, "has agreed to go through first and then make an immediate return to show that no harm shall come to you during the journey."

The king plucked a box from his pocket, the very same box he had presented to Alice back in her world, thus starting in motion this entire chain of events, and sprung the hidden catch. He then motioned to Alice to step forward.

"Would you do the honors, Alice?"

She nodded solemnly, taking the ring from him. The object hummed excitedly as she walked towards the Looking Glass. The technician pressed a button on the little operating pad, which opened up a filmy white box with a special rectangular crevice. Without needing to be directed, she placed the ring in that crevice. It clicked in place and there was a resulting rumble as the Looking Glass came to life. The reflective surface of the mirror rippled outwards for a few seconds before settling into deceptive tranquility.

She stared at the glass surface, remembering the sensation of being yanked forward and pulled in. Would that happen again? Or would she actually have to willingly enter it this time? She supposed there was only one way to find out.

The girl turned around to face the crowd of eyes which had all fallen upon her. She met Hatter's encouraging warm chocolate ones and smiled.

"Go on, love. We'll be waiting right here for you," he said.

She addressed the oysters. "Okay, everyone, traveling through this is probably not the most fun experience you will ever have. But you all got here in one piece and I got here in one piece so it's not that bad. Just, um, try to remember to breathe and you may experience a little bit of dizziness like when you've been in a tilt-a-whirl ride."

A series of chuckles reverberated through the crowd of oysters. She could see she had eased their tension quite a bit. But it would be better for them to see that traveling through the Looking Glass would not hurt them rather than just take her word for it.

"I'll be right back," she quipped before turning around, taking a deep breath, and stepping through the mirror.

The Technicolor vortex surrounded her once more, spinning around her and disorienting her senses. Light and darkness, up and down became impossible to differentiate. Since she was actually prepared for this, it was marginally better than the first time she had traveled through the inter-dimensional wormhole. At least this time, she kept her body primed for landing, her arms ready to displace the brunt of the momentum and protect her head and neck from the impact on concrete. Her landing was far more graceful than the last time. Instead of just crashing into the ground like senseless dead weight, she hit the floor in a somersault, rolling off the force and stopping in a crouch, hinged on the balls of her feet with her hands pressed to the floor to balance herself. Unfortunately, there was no getting around the assault to her equilibrium. The dark hallway of the abandoned warehouse, barely lit by the weak light of streetlamps outside spun wildly in her vision. She stayed still and allowed for the vertigo to wear off, keeping her eyes shut and her breaths controlled and even.

That was when the hellmouth threw a monkey wrench into the plan. Once she recovered, she was supposed to have turned around and gone straight back through. But when she stood, shaking off the vestiges of the dizziness, she heard a bloodcurdling scream from very close by followed by several inhuman growls of hunger. Every Slayer knew that growl—the growl of a blood lusting vampire who has just found its meal. Only, from the sound of it, there was more than just one.

"Oh, shit, _now_?" she groaned, pressing her hand against the rough concrete wall. She turned back to the Looking Glass, agonized and conflicted over what to do.

"Please! Someone help me!" It sounded like a young woman. Her voice was shrill with terror and rightly so, for it was likely she was being chased by a band of young vampires who had a penchant for playing with their food before finishing it off. There would not be time to save her if Alice went back through the Looking Glass.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Alice cursed. She threw one last glance back at the Looking Glass as the Slayer within her overruled the original plan. She could only hope they would not mind waiting a little bit longer for her return.

She sped down the corridor, the tails of the purple velvet coat flapping behind her. There was the stairway just ahead, and, if she remembered correctly, stacks of wooden crates below which had just become her source of weapons. All the way she grumbled about the hellmouth being a major inconvenience.

Thankfully, the wood of the crates was still in good enough condition to transfigure into sharp stakes. They would not work as well as a prepared, crafted stake, but they would do in a pinch. There was no way she could go after that amount of vampires with no weapon. Even for a Slayer as experienced and well-trained as Alice, an act like that amounted to suicide. Going after what she estimated to be around five to seven vampires alone and with improvised weapons was risky enough as it was. She was not going to push her luck further. The hellmouth had already shown her just how horrible her luck could be.

Following her keen natural and preternatural senses, she ran out of the building and tracked the moving group. It must have rained in that perceived hour of time Alice had been in Wonderland, for the ground was filled with fresh puddles. Water dripped from the eaves and gutters of the buildings. The girl's screams mingled with the vampire's growls deep into the narrow, twisted alleyways carved in between all the old warehouses. It was a premium hunting and nesting ground for the undead. It was regularly patrolled, but Cleveland was a large city—much larger than Sunnydale had been. It could be the patrol was scheduled for later, or the girls had just not reached this area yet. Either way, Alice was the only chance this girl had for survival now. She did not even have her cell phone or specialized patrol transceiver which could also send out a distress signal if she ran into trouble. Her house was only a few blocks away in the opposite direction, but she dared not even take the time to go there.

"Fuck my life! Seriously, what the hell?" she griped. By now she sorely regretted not keeping the nifty butterfly knife she had taken from that Suit in the casino.

A plan of action formed. _Okay, find them, distract them long enough so the girl can get away, and then you try to run. Don't get in over your head. Hatter would never forgive you if you got yourself killed right off the bat. Follow the rule. Don't die. Don't die. _

"Help! Oh god, please, leave me alone!"

There was menacing laughter and bawdy jokes, indicating that the group was composed mostly of males, if not completely. Alice shuddered. They probably had more on their minds than just chasing down a meal, then.

She was very close now. They were just around the corner, probably having trapped the girl in a dead end. She could smell the vampires now, that loamy scent of decay filling her nostrils. Alice flattened herself against a building, gripping one of her makeshift stakes in her dominant right hand. The other stakes she had stashed in the auspiciously deep pockets of Hatter's purple coat. This coat had definitely proved its use to her in more ways than she had expected.

Peaking around the corner of the building, she saw that her senses had been correct. A group of six male vampires were taking turns beating on a woman who looked even younger than Alice. The sobbing, terrified girl was being tossed from vampire to vampire, her face already mottled with bruises and her lip split, blood streaming down her chin. The alley did not end in a dead end, but there was a high chain-linked fence. Such things were easily traversed by creatures of the night and those who hunted them, but tended to be quite the obstacle for most normal humans.

What Alice would give to have a repeating crossbow at that moment. The stakes she had fashioned from the wood of that old crate were not bound to be very aerodynamic, thus trying to fling out a stake with the intent to hit one of them in the heart from where she stood was likely to be a lost cause. She would probably only end up losing a precious weapon in the process. That crossbow, unfortunately, was uselessly stuck in the weapons chest she had hidden in her walk-in closet back home.

One of the vampires, a large one with bright red hair who appeared to be the pack leader, struck the girl, knocking her to the ground with a broken scream of pain and fear. She fell into a deep puddle, water splashing up around her and soaking into her pink jacket. The vampires enclosed around her in a semi-circle, the big red-haired one at the center.

"Save some for me, boss!" one of the spectator vampires standing on the fringe yelled out.

"I think she's good and ready, boys," the leader announced menacingly. His hands lowered to his belt buckle.

Alice stepped out from behind the wall. All the vampires' backs were turned to her. They were so intent upon their quarry that they did not even sense her approach. They must have been relatively young to have such a lack of vigilance in a city fiercely guarded by dozens of Slayers. That was all the better for Alice. Young, stupid, undisciplined vampires were much easier to fight than older, experienced ones, especially when the odds were six to one.

She soundlessly marched up to the red-haired leader and slammed her boot into the back of his knee. The vampire howled in pain as he unwillingly fell to his knees, bringing him down to the perfect height for Alice to jam her stake into his back, piercing his heart. She yanked it out before his body erupted into ashes. Many rookie Slayers made the mistake of leaving the stake in the vampire's body after hitting the heart, causing the weapon to meet the same fate as its victim. It was a lesson quickly learned.

Stupid and unorganized the pack might have been, but they immediately recognized her for what she was after witnessing the death of their leader. They hissed with outrage and dismay, turning from the stunned, frozen young woman on the ground. Their ridged, disfigured faces and yellow eyes fell upon her, all five gleaming with murderous intent. Well, at least Alice's first objective of distracting them from the girl seemed to have worked. Now if only the girl would cooperate and get out of there.

"Slayer!" one growled accusingly.

"Shit!" another cried out.

Alice drove her elbow up and back into one vampire's face and then spun to deliver a forceful snap kick to another. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a fist hurtling towards her face. So she lifted up her arm to block the strike. Unfortunately, she did not see the moving fist of another vampire, and it rammed into her gut, knocking the wind from her and causing her to double over with a pained grunt.

She caught sight of the girl huddled on the ground, her hands clutching at the lapels of her jacket and her wide, red-rimmed eyes staring at Alice with shock and terror.

"What are you waiting for? Get out of here!" Alice screamed at her as she caught one vampire's fist in her hand, hooked her other arm under his shoulder and then flipped his body in mid-air to slam him to the ground. With one swift motion, she staked him. His body disintegrated into ashes.

That seemed to snap the girl out of her trance. She hastily clambered to her feet and began stumbling away, but then hesitated at the end of the alleyway. Tears tracked through the blood and grit on her face and she began fumbling in her jacket, pulling out a black cell phone.

_Oh dear god, don't try to play hero. _"Jesus Christ, run already! Get inside!" Alice shouted in the midst of bending backwards into a nearly ninety degree angle to avoid the simultaneous hits of two vampires. She maneuvered her body into a full back handspring, clipping one of the creatures in the chin as her legs lifted up in over in a perfect arc.

"The bitch came alone!" one vampire yelled.

Yes, she had come alone, but she had already managed to kill two of them, cutting the odds against her by a full third in less than five minutes. By her measure, she was doing rather well. One glance down the alley showed that the girl had finally retrieved her senses and escaped. That at least solved one of Alice's problems. But she had already used up far more time than had been allotted. She should have gone back through the Looking Glass a while ago. Everyone back in Wonderland was probably starting to get worried, especially Hatter and her father. She either needed to kill these last four quickly or just run back to the Looking Glass. Vampires were fast. Slayers were faster, but only up to a certain point. They did, after all, need to breathe.

"You assholes," she grunted while roundhouse kicking a vampire and knocking him into one of his pack mates, "have the worst timing." She reversed her momentum into a spinning high kick that lifted a vampire clear off his feet. But the last standing vampire landed a powerful blow to her jaw, causing her to topple over onto her back, landing roughly upon the wet ground.

Bursts of pain and black spots rocketed through her skull and vision, respectively. But she shook it off like the seasoned warrior she was and kept moving, knowing that staying still against four fast, undead opponents would be the death of her.

The vampires had arrayed around her, surrounding her on each side. The two largest ones were blocking the exit out of the alley way. Each of them surveyed her with a mixture of hate and hunger in their acid yellow eyes, licking their lips. A Slayer's blood was highly prized by vampires. But Alice had no intention of letting them have a taste.

"Well, I guess running is out of the question," she grumbled to herself, securing her grip upon her stake.

* * *

Alice had told Hatter that it might take her a few minutes to recover from the disorienting effects of traveling through the Looking Glass. So when that short amount of time passed without any sign of her reappearing on the Wonderland side, he was not overly concerned. When _more_ time passed and she still did not come through the mirror, he began to feel a knot of dread form in his gut.

He turned to Alice's father who was likewise staring at the Looking Glass with a deep frown etching furrows into his brow. "Um, don't you think she should have been back by now?" he asked the older man.

"I thought she would be," Robert replied without taking his gaze off the inter-dimensional device.

They were not the only ones who noticed Alice's prolonged absence. Jack and the duchess repeatedly threw quizzical glances back at the Looking Glass before turning to converse with each other in low voices. The oysters were clearly becoming agitated over the situation. The group began to whisper and glare suspiciously.

"Is the Looking Glass operating?" Jack asked the technician. His voice was tightly controlled, but Hatter could sense the undertone of disquiet to it.

"Yes, Your Majesty, at full capacity," the man replied, scratching his head in perplexity.

"Where is she?" a tall, dark-skinned man amongst the group of oysters demanded. It was the man whom Alice had called a cop and who had also bravely jumped to her defense during the confrontation with the Queen of Hearts.

"Calm yourselves, please," Jack implored them. "I'm sure Alice will be along any moment."

But the moment passed and the Looking Glass's reflective surface remained horribly inert. The liquid dread coiling in Hatter's belly solidified into a leaden weight. There was no question that if everything had gone smoothly, Alice would be back by now and they would be preparing for their one-way trip through the Looking Glass. That must have meant things had not gone as smoothly as planned. Knowing what he knew of her world, "not going smoothly" could easily translate into "possible death or dismemberment".

Duchess Ilaena caught his gaze and then made a slight nod towards the Looking Glass. Her mouth silently formed the word "Go!" to him. She had practically read his mind. He dropped his bags to the floor and stomped up to the contraption, practically shoving the hapless technician out of the way.

"Hatter, wait!" Jack called out. "You can't go through without—"

Hatter never heard the rest of that sentence nor did he care to. He went through the mirror and into that winding kaleidoscope of light and colors. The experience was a mixture of exhilarating and nauseating. The journey could not have lasted more than seconds, but it had a strange flavor of eternity to it. And, yet, all too quickly, the hard, unyielding surface came rushing up and he barely had time to lift his arms up to protect his face as the Looking Glass on Alice's side spat him out.

He lay there on the ground for several moments, attempting to regain his scattered mental faculties. Every fiber of his being wanted to be up on his feet instantly, looking for Alice. But he knew that if he tried to stand at the moment, he would likely end up back on the ground. His brain matter felt like it was twirling around inside his skull. So he waited an agonizing period of time before he felt his equilibrium had stabilized enough to rise to his feet. He found his hat, which had been whisked off his head on the landing, and secured it back on his head.

He surveyed his surroundings. Just as Alice had told him, he was in the dead end of a very dark, short hallway. Cobwebs and cracks were the only adornment on the walls. There was a weak source of yellowish illumination coming from around the corner. Alice was nowhere in sight. The knot in his stomach tightened; his blood ran cold.

"Alice!" he shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. He could not decide if it was better or worse to see no evidence of her lying hurt or unconscious on the ground in front of the Looking Glass. But that left his mind free to run wild with all sorts of horrific fates which could have befallen his girlfriend.

There was no answer. Heart racing with alarm as fast as his mind ran with speculation, the young man exited the hallway, following the weak sources of light which seemed to come from outside the building. Alice had told him the Looking Glass on her side was located in an abandoned warehouse, most likely to keep people away from it. The building definitely had the feel of being empty for a very long time. The state of disrepair was akin to the dilapidation of most of the buildings in the city of Wonderland.

"Alice!" His frantic cry bounced off the walls, reflecting his desperation back to him.

_Come on, Alice, where are you? What could have been so important you left the Looking Glass? _He did not allow his mind to move further from that question. Intuition he did not quite want to digest was beginning to whisper insidiously within the confines of his mind. As much as he had tried to prepare himself, it was not something he was quite ready to face just yet. He had thought there would be more time to adjust.

After descending a flight of steps, he came across stacks of wooden crates. Several looked to have been smashed to pieces, leaving an array of fractured wood upon the concrete floor. The dreaded suspicions began whispering again at the sight of the broken wood.

_No, come on, they could have already been like that,_ he told himself.

He was aware of the fact that he was essentially venturing alone into a world he had never been in before, a world full of threats never encountered in Wonderland. But he could not bring himself to care about those things when Alice might be in mortal danger. He stepped outside the building into a deserted side alley with several puddles littering the ground and water dripping freely from above. Rain was a rare occurrence in Wonderland, so Hatter was somewhat taken aback to feel the drops of water splash against the brim of his porkpie hat. An eerie, grim silence pervaded the place. Wet coldness seeped into his bones, and it had nothing to do with the outside temperature.

But then he heard something. It was faint, but he could just make out the sounds of sniffling and crying. It sounded distinctly feminine. Feeling it was his only lead (and somewhat grateful for a reprieve from the deadening silence), he followed the sounds of the crying. He eventually came upon a girl in a pink coat, her blonde hair disheveled and obscuring her face, slumped up against a brick wall. She was gripping a black device in one hand while the other acted along with her hair to hide her face. While he felt sorry for whatever was distressing the girl, his heart sunk with disappointment when he saw that it was not Alice.

"Hey, you all right?" he queried with concern.

The girl flinched, lifting her head up and clumsily scrambling away from him. The drenched curtain of hair moved just enough that Hatter caught glimpses of blood and bruises on her face.

"Stay away from me!" the girl cried. "Oh god, just leave me alone!"

"Hey, hey!" Hatter held his hands up, attempting to placate the girl. He maintained his distance, however. This girl might have seen Alice, so he did not want to scare her off. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just looking for someone."

The girl halted, peering at him suspiciously. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell the abrasions and bruises on her face were fresh. Someone or, rather, _something_, had done a real number on this poor woman. His heart went out to her. Truly, it did. But Alice was his main concern for the moment. This girl could obviously stand and run, so she could not be injured too severely.

"My girlfriend, you see, is around here, somewhere. And, well, she was supposed to meet up with me…" He lapsed into silence when he noticed the girl's expression transform from wary to horrified. The lead weight punched through his gut.

"Was she wearing a purple coat…dark hair?" the girl asked.

Hatter felt like his throat had closed up so he could only nod. His heart began to race furiously.

"She saved me," the girl sobbed wretchedly. "They were gonna kill me…do things to me…but she came out of nowhere and…oh god…" She started to shake, pulling her hands up to cover her mouth.

Hatter lunged forward, heedlessly gripping the traumatized young woman by the arms. "Where? How many? Is she all right?"

The girl's eyes bugged out of her head, but she answered him. "She-she told me to run and I was gonna call for help, but my cell phone is dead. She was fighting them…she moved so fast…but there were six of them and they're so strong. I don't know…" She shook her head despairingly.

_Six of them…oh fuck, Alice!_ He knew it was her job to fight and kill vampires. He knew she could handle herself better than anyone he had ever met including himself. His brain knew all these things. But his heart only heard that his beloved had thrown herself into a battle in which she was heavily outnumbered. Panic at the thought of losing her after only just starting their lives together outweighed any sort of logic.

"Take me there!" he ordered the girl.

"What?" She gawked at him, plainly incredulous that he would ask such a thing. "Are you crazy? I'm _not_ going back there. I don't even know…they chased me down there..."

"Do you want the death of the girl who saved your life on your hands?" he said harshly. His eyes were starting to sting and his throat felt horribly tight and dry. No doubt he looked like a wild man to his young woman.

"N-no," the girl stammered. "But…" She drew in a tremulous breath, her bottom lip quivering. "Okay…I'll try to lead you back there," she relented.

As it turned out, no such action had been needed. Hatter and the girl turned at the sound of footsteps hitting the ground in an obviously accelerated pace in the adjoining alley off to their left. Thinking it was possibly a vampire, he immediately placed himself in front of the girl to shield her from view. Though he had no weapon in which to kill the creature, he cocked back his Sledgehammer fist and prepared to strike out.

There were two vampires, and they were not running to something, but from something. Alice came into sight in a purple and blue blur. She pounced upon one of the creatures, who gave off a piercing screech of pure terror as it careened into the ground. The other did not even pause to glance back as the dark-haired Slayer lifted up a sharp wooden stick and plunged it into the creature's back and then swiftly pulled it back out. Hatter's jaw dropped when the vampire completely crumbled to dust beneath Alice's feet.

"Five out of six," Alice mumbled, presumably to herself as she did not seem to notice the presence of Hatter or the girl. She dusted off her coat and dress. "Not bad for…" She stopped when she looked up and saw the two of them. "Hatter?"

There was a fresh bruise spreading along the bottom right portion of her jaw and a small cut above her left eyebrow. Other than those minor injuries, she looked to be perfectly fine. Hatter felt his blood pressure nearly bottom out from the overwhelming sense of relief. He relaxed his tense posture and moved away from the cowering girl behind him.

"What are you doing here?" Alice asked, tossing aside the sharp stick that he noticed resembled those pieces of wood back in that warehouse which housed the Looking Glass. His initial suspicions had been correct, it seemed.

"Coming to rescue you…but…it seems I was a bit late," he replied lightly.

"Oh." Alice smiled. She came towards him and pressed her lips against his. He leaned into the kiss, twining his hands in her damp, gritty hair. "Maybe next time. You've saved me enough for a while anyway," she murmured.

"You never mentioned they turned into dust after stabbing them," he commented mildly.

"I didn't?" She frowned. "Yeah, nice and convenient, isn't it? If only all the hell beasties were this courteous."

Her eyes fairly glowed with exhilaration. He supposed it only made sense that she was experiencing the lush thrill of adrenaline. She was in her element here, doing what she had been built to do. It made her all the more heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Hell beasties?" the girl, whose presence had been temporarily forgotten by Hatter, asked shakily.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" Alice asked with clear concern, skirting around Hatter to see to the girl.

The girl lifted a shaking hand to run through her straggly blonde locks. "I…I don't know. What were those things?"

He noticed Alice's cringe and then remembered that there was supposed to be an element of secrecy to her job. The reason for the secrecy had not been made exactly clear other than that it was mainly to avoid mass hysteria. Oysters were a quirky bunch, he decided.

"Um, you've had kind of a rough night and it might take some time to process everything. You should probably get yourself to a hospital," Alice kindly advised.

"No, I hate hospitals," the girl declared, violently shaking her head.

"Well, then, at least get yourself home. It's not safe to be hanging out around outside at night, especially around here," Alice countered. "Where do you live?"

"A few blocks down." The girl sniffled and wiped at her swollen lip. "My dad…he's gonna wonder what happened…"

"Tell him you were attacked by a gang and fill out a police report. Just go home and stay there for the rest of the night, okay?" Alice said firmly. She gave the girl a sympathetic squeeze on the shoulder. "Everything's going to be all right."

Alice and Hatter escorted the girl out of the cryptic network of alleys and abandoned buildings. They parted ways with her once they reached the edge of the residential area and watched the girl's pink shrouded form disappear into the night.

"She'll rationalize it away by morning," Alice noted dryly. "She'll make herself forget their deformed faces, their sharp teeth, the sounds they made…"

"Them exploding into dust," added Hatter. It was surely not a sight he would forget. That had just been unbelievable.

They started trekking back to the warehouse where the Looking Glass was located. They still needed to return to try to salvage the oysters' already flimsy trust in the contraption that was the only way to get them home.

"I'm sorry. I just heard her screaming for help and I had to…I didn't think there would be enough time to go back through," Alice apologetically explained, turning to Hatter with a profoundly contrite expression on her face.

He grinned and affectionately tweaked her nose. "If you hadn't gone off to save her, you wouldn't be my Alice. Just…well, try to be careful and keep following that bloody rule of yours."

"The no underclothes rule?" she teased.

"I'm serious, Alice," Hatter said. "We've only just started our lives. Don't you go ruining things by dying prematurely."

She glanced away from him. "Well, normally, I don't go rushing off after a pack of vamps on my own unless I need to really work off steam. I usually go out with a group of Slayers."

That slightly mollified his distress over the ordeal. He definitely felt much better about Alice's dangerous job knowing she would usually have other equally strong, talented fighters guarding her back.

They entered the building, both remaining ever vigilant for more signs of the hellmouth's nocturnal occupants. Thankfully, the warehouse was as deserted as before, leading Alice to wonder aloud if perhaps the Looking Glass exerted some kind of mystical repelling force upon the non-human variety.

"Seriously, I think this would be a vamp's dream-nest. Not too many windows, lots of nooks and dark hallways. Close enough to a residential district to keep up a steady supply of food except for the fact that I live close by, but, still…" she mused as they climbed the stairs.

They stopped before the Looking Glass. Hatter glanced down at his girlfriend. The purple-red bruise on her face was very noticeable against her fair skin. The oysters were bound to see that and question whether or not she had received the injury because of her journey through the Looking Glass.

"Love, what are you going to tell the oysters—" she gave him that annoyed look so he quickly amended his statement to "erm…your lot…about the bruise?"

Her hand flew up to her face and she threw her head back, sighing deeply. "Shit…uh…I'll just tell them I tripped and fell or something. Crap, I didn't even think about that."

Hatter chuckled in amusement as he linked hands with her. Then, together, they stepped through the Looking Glass…again.

* * *

_Come on, you know you want to review after finally seeing some Slayin' action..._


	35. A Merry, Mad World, Part I

Sorry, guys, I got temporarily hijacked by _The Hunger Games_ trilogy (You must read it if you haven't!) otherwise I would have gotten this out sooner. For another reading recommendation, the wonderful **Alaina** **Downs **has started a new AU Alice story called **"Scarborough Fair"** and it's already loaded with awesomeness in just two chapters. So go read it and tell her how awesome it is.

As always, much gratitude towards my readers and reviewers! Please make an effort to review this one because I'm kind of nervous about it :)

_A quick FYI_: This story takes place in late March of 2009. I am keeping true to the BtVS timeline where all the Potentials were activated in May of 2003. Alice was 15 at the time and she is 21 now. Her father would have disappeared in March of 1998 when Alice was ten years old, but I placed her birthday late in the year so that would have been the year she turned 11.

Righto, now onwards to a bit of spotlight on Carol!

* * *

**Chapter XXXIV: **A Merry, Mad World, Part 1

Rain pattered softly against the windows in a steady, rolling drumbeat. The streets and sidewalks, already damp from earlier showers in the evening, once more became drenched from another incoming breath of moisture off of Lake Erie. Street lights provided yellow-white pockets of illumination, lighting up the nighttime shower. Carol pulled aside the drapes from the living room window to peer out into the street in front of her home, her comely face set into a deep frown. Her daughter had been gone for almost an hour now after storming out of the house to track down her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) and return the ring he had foolishly given her. She had also left the house completely unprepared for any sort of wet weather. Her blue dress, pink-red tights, and purple boots were certainly not going to stave off a chill. It was late March and the warm spring weather had just started making its appearance, only to be temporarily set back by the past week's cold front.

It was not the rain Carol worried about, though. There were far worse dangers a person could run into on the streets of Cleveland at night. It was not widely vocalized, even among the press. If the reporters on the various news stations throughout the city actually ran stories on every horrific crime, sudden disappearance, or unexplained event, the sheer volume of those things would overwhelm the airwaves and there would be little else to talk about. But anyone who had lived in Cleveland as long as Carol had understood certain things about the city. One of those things was that it was generally very unsafe for people to walk around at night, especially alone. And the reasons exceeded those for the typical dangers one would encounter in a large urban area. But no one was able to voice the exact nature as to why or how those dangers differed. It was just an unspoken, but passively acknowledged, fact about living in Cleveland.

The dishes from the dinner with Jack had long since been washed, dried, and returned to their usual places in the cabinets. The table, counter tops, and stove had been wiped clean. Unfortunately, that activity had only used up half an hour. Carol wondered if Alice had been able to track down Jack before he had made it to his apartment. She then realized she had no idea where Jack's apartment was. There was no mention of how he had arrived to their home. Had he taken a cab or had he walked? He had already been gone for a full twenty minutes before they realized he had snuck the ring into Alice's pocket.

Carol was still quite puzzled over that move. Three months into the relationship was a tad early to be presenting a ring as a gift, no matter the innocent intentions behind it. If Alice had flatly refused the ring, then why would Jack secretly stash it in her pocket? What was that supposed to accomplish? What message did he intend to send through that deceptive measure?

While she was the first one to admit that Alice had a rather undeniable role in sabotaging her relationships with her fears of commitment and intimacy, Jack had certainly not helped his case by pulling that stunt with the ring. He had appeared to have more intelligence than that. More than likely, he had completely damned his chances of ever carrying on a relationship with her daughter. Not that his chances were incredibly great to begin with. Maybe her daughter's roller coaster love life had made her cynical, but all throughout the dinner, Carol had not been seeing any potential rising from Jack. Just as with all the other young men who had paraded through that foyer, hopes high and smiles bright, the woman had a feeling he was soon going to find himself single and heartbroken.

And then there was just something else about him, something that seemed kind of off to Carol. He had been the very definition of polite and charming, complimenting their home, the food, the decorations, and Carol herself in that wonderfully urbane English accent. His clothes were impeccable, not a single thing out of place. Each part of his outfit and his manner seemed meticulously planned and perfected. But there had been this nagging feeling tugging at the fringe of Carol's thoughts as she watched Jack Chase, especially as he conversed with her daughter. He seemed _too _perfect, _too_ polite and charming, _too_ well-dressed. _Too_ good to be true…to be real.

_Now that is really cynical, Carol, goodness,_ she admonished herself as she turned away from the front window. There was no tangible reason for harboring those strange thoughts towards Jack. But knowing it was somewhat absurd did not seem to allay the feelings whatsoever. In any case, Alice had no doubt returned the ring to him and had officially ended the relationship or was at least in the process of doing one of the two. So there was no need to be ruminating over the strange vibe she had been receiving from that young man. She would probably never see him again.

The rain slacked off into a light drizzle which sounded no louder than a gentle whisper against the windowpane. Carol glanced at the clock. Alice had been gone for a full hour now. She briefly considered calling her, but one quick check in her bedroom led to the discovery of her daughter's slim blue cell phone sitting on her desk right next to her computer monitor. That plan thoroughly out of the picture, she went to her own bedroom and decided to pull out that stack of essays she had been meaning to grade for the past few nights. Retiring for bed in this situation seemed like a pointless endeavor at any rate.

An hour was no reason to become rattled. It was not like going out into the night was an unusual occurrence with Alice. In spite of Cleveland's morbid reputation, her child seemed to flippantly maintain a semi-nocturnal lifestyle. Carol might have raised a complaint about this if Alice had not been so diligent about texting and calling her while she was out "with friends". There were times when she would be gone all weekend with her friends or for several days throughout the week. She did not begrudge her daughter the right to have a healthy, vibrant social life. And Alice was an adult. She voluntarily paid a portion of the rent and utilities for their little two bedroom townhouse without fail. She covered all of her own expenses such as her cell phone, credit card bill, college expenses, and even the internet. How she managed all that on what had to be a meager salary working as a part-time martial arts instructor was somewhat of a mystery. Carol just figured her daughter must have had a natural flair for finances and budgeting. She liked to think Alice inherited it from her, as she had had to do some serious budgeting when her husband disappeared eleven years ago, leaving her to support herself and her child alone.

But, still, there was no one in this neighborhood or in this city who was oblivious to the dangers lurking on the streets at night, or sometimes during the day. Carol's own husband, Robert, had disappeared without a trace in the space of an afternoon. Everywhere one turned, there was a person who had lost someone or who knew of others who had been lost. There were several public walls which had been completely plastered by hundreds of photographs of people who had simply vanished. Some had been up there for years, even longer than Robert had been missing. Carol did not want to have Alice's picture put up there. Her heart, battered and scarred from the loss of her husband, would not survive it. She had let go of his disappearance, accepted that he would never return for Alice's sake. There had been no other viable way to become the stable parent her daughter had needed. But just as much as Alice had needed her, Carol needed Alice. Alice was her world, her bright ray of sunshine.

Maybe it just really bothered her that Alice had left her cell phone behind. It was like there was a dark, foreboding cloud hanging over that device. Obviously it indicated the girl had not intended to be gone for very long. Certainly not more than an hour…which it now was.

Carol sighed, her frown deepening. She tapped her red ink pen against the stack of hand-written essays which had yet to be touched, suddenly bereft of the motivation to work on them. Call it Mother's Intuition or over-reacting, but something just did not sit well with her at all. She felt very tense and restless, as if she had just had a dozen shots of espresso.

_This is crazy! It's only been an hour, calm down. She's probably having a huge argument with Jack. Or they're making up and are…_Carol cut her track of thought off at that point, not wanting to contemplate any further along that avenue. There were just some things a mother ought to remain in the dark about. Besides, the odds were decidedly in the favor of the former scenario.

But then the door opened and Alice's voice, as sweet as an angel's bell, reverberated down the hallway. Carol did not suppress the sigh of relief which seemed to dispel all the tension and anxiety from her body. She threw the red pen down and hauled herself off the bed, ready to offer her daughter whatever comforts she required after a probable break-up.

The smile on her face dissipated and she screeched to a halt in the hallway when she got an eyeful of her daughter's appearance; more specifically, her daughter's face. There was a blood-tinted bruise on the right side of her jaw. Drawing her gaze upward, she found a small, oozing cut just above Alice's left eyebrow.

"Oh my god!" Carol shrieked, horrified. Her shocked mind instantly jumped to conclusions. "Did he hit you?" As little as she had known of Jack, she had certainly not gotten the impression that he was violent, especially towards women. If he had truly done this, Alice had better have saved enough of him for Carol to pummel herself.

Alice's expression screwed into confusion. "What?" She lifted her hand up to tentatively prod the bruise. "Oh! That…um…no I'm assuming you're talking about Jack. But, no, he didn't do this. It's no big deal, anyway." She dismissively fluttered her hand, appearing utterly unperturbed by the trauma her face had suffered.

"Oh, honey, let me get something to clean you up and you need to put ice on that," Carol pressed, coming forward to steer her daughter towards the kitchen.

"Mom," Alice said, a hint of urgency to her tone which was completely overlooked by Carol.

"Here, sit down, take off the coat, and tell me what happened," Carol continued. Had she not been so overwrought by the apparent attack on Alice, she would have recalled that she had not been wearing a coat when she had left the house an hour ago.

"Mom," Alice repeated, gently deflecting her mother's grip. "Time-out. I'm fine. This is nothing, believe me. There are more important things to talk about right now."

More important things than the fact that someone had attacked her daughter? Carol could hardly think of anything else more important at that moment, but she deferred to Alice and backed off. Almost off-handedly, she threw a sidelong glance towards the foyer and that was when she noticed the young stranger standing there, watching the proceedings with a glint of indulgent amusement in his dark brown eyes. She blinked almost uncomprehendingly before a flood of questions entered her mind. Who was this young man? What was he doing with Alice? Why was he wearing a brown straw hat? What was with that strange smile?

"Um, hello," Carol greeted uncertainly. She glanced at Alice, who was watching her intently, as if gauging her reaction. "May I ask who your friend is?" She used the word 'friend' in the loosest sense of the word.

"That's one of the more important things to talk about," Alice said awkwardly, twisting her hands together. It was then that Carol finally noticed her daughter was wearing a long, very elegantly crafted purple velvet jacket. Where had that come from? She shot another look at the young man, still standing in place in the foyer. Her guess was with him.

The young man was definitely a handsome one. Shorter than Jack, but with a charming spring of dark chestnut locks curling up around the brim of his hat and a coating of fine stubble on round, boyish cheeks. He had a very warm, inviting smile, which he directed towards both her and Alice. But Carol noticed most of his attention was on Alice, and there was a particular look in his eyes when he gazed upon her daughter that she recognized. What was even more perplexing was that particular look, that look of contented, adoring lovers, was reflected in Alice's eyes. What on earth had gone on in a mere hour to lead to this development? Perhaps that blow to the head had scrambled Alice's senses.

"Hello, Mrs. Hamilton," the young stranger greeted. He had an English accent as well, although his was of a different flavor than Jack's. "My name is Hatter. David Hatter, but I just go by Hatter." He took off his hat, placing it over his heart, and respectfully inclined his head.

_Hatter? Is he serious?_ One look from Alice confirmed that he was, indeed, serious. Her daughter beckoned the young man over. When he came to Alice's side, she reached out and linked her hand with his, causing Carol's eyes to widen. She was speechless and utterly confounded.

"Mom, I have some...confessions to make," Alice prefaced, grimacing slightly. When Hatter nudged her she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Okay, _a lot_ of confessions to make."

The muteness left her and Carol, feeling a strange sense of anxious frustration mounting, let loose the flood of questions. "Alice, what's going on? What happened with Jack? What happened to your face? And what are you doing holding hands and making eyes at this man as if he's your boyfriend?" She glanced at Hatter. "No offense, of course."

"None taken," he assured her.

"Mom, I know what this looks like…well, not really, other than that it must seem really bizarre. And I get that. It _is_ kind of bizarre. But, if you're prepared to listen to my quite lengthy explanation, which will include my unfortunate face accessories, then it will all sort of make sense." She grimaced again, exchanging a brief look with Hatter. "I hope."

That did not sound reassuring at all, but Carol supposed she had little choice in the matter. So she nodded curtly and then offered in a comically light voice, "Tea or coffee?" _Or more wine,_ she thought to herself. There was a full bottle of Merlot with her name written all over it in the wine cabinet.

The corners of Alice's lips tugged up into a smile which did not nearly match Hatter's beaming features. "Tea will do."

All three were seated at the kitchen table, clutching steaming cups of Darjeeling tea. Alice had removed her jacket. It was draped behind her on the back of her chair.

Carol waited patiently for her daughter to collect her thoughts before launching this so-called "lengthy explanation". If it as lengthy as Alice alluded, then she had a feeling she was going to be fighting off yawns while teaching class tomorrow all day.

"Well, basically, my story falls into three sections…or three big confessions, if you will. Two of which are actually kind of not my fault and I had just learned them myself," Alice began with hesitance, her eyes firmly locked upon her tea cup. She did not elaborate on the confession which apparently _was_ her fault, whatever that was supposed to mean.

The girl looked up at her mother, her blue eyes troubled and concerned. "You may not believe it, not at first. But, I swear on my life and everything I hold dear that what I'm about to tell you is the truth…" There was a long pause before she laconically added, "And nothing but the truth."

A shiver ran through Carol. Whether it was excitement or dread, she could not tell. Probably a combination of both. Then Alice began to tell the story and it soon became clear Carol was going to need to break open that bottle of wine.

When Alice had left the house to search for Jack with the intent of returning his ring, she had found him being beaten and stuffed into the back of a white van. Before she could pursue the van, a mysterious, creepy man with long white hair intercepted her. They were after the ring, apparently; the ring that, incidentally, happened to be in Alice's possession. She had tricked this white-haired man by slipping the ring onto her finger and giving him the empty box instead. Then she chased him into an abandoned building where she witnessed him going through a mirror.

"Through a mirror?" Carol questioned, her eyebrow raised. To her mind, that meant busting through it to end up with several painful, deep lacerations. Evidently, that was not what Alice meant by a long shot.

He had apparently gone through the mirror as if the surface were like a liquid. Alice had not truly meant to follow, but when she had touched the mirror merely out of the curious intent of inspection, she was sucked into it. The mirror had been some kind of an inter-dimensional portal, transporting her to another world entirely.

Carol nearly spit out her tea at this ludicrous claim. "What? Honey, you seriously—"

Alice held her hand up. "Mom, please, let me finish and that have at me with your disbelief, by all means."

So, Carol pursed her lips, sucked in a deep breath, and kept her mouth shut.

She followed the white-haired man to a house in a city built a mile above the ground, a fact which made Alice and Hatter glance at each other and shudder. He reached across the table to grip her hand, an act which Carol found oddly touching in spite of the fact that she was still confounded by his presence.

It was at this house she had seen them drag an unconscious Jack up the stairs and inside. This house with a large white rabbit emblem painted on the doorway. Something sparked in Carol's mind. Some vague connection that was too tenuous and fleeting for her to grasp at the moment.

Alice's arm had caught in a beam of light from a hovercraft shaped like a beetle. The light had burned a green mark into her forearm.

"It's a Scarab, love," Hatter interjected.

"Whatever, an Egyptian beetle then," Alice grumbled. She brought her arm up to display the mark. There it was, clear as day. A curling, flared pattern of green nearly covering the entire underside of her forearm, gleaming starkly against her naturally pale skin. Well, that did add some credibility to her story. Carol knew next to nothing about tattoos, but she highly doubted one as large and intricate as that one could be completed in the space of an hour in any of their world's shops. This did not, of course, mean she was buying any of this story. She would reserve her judgment for afterwards.

"You could have had that removed, you know," Hatter pointed out. "All the others did."

"Well, that's 'cause they had them on their faces. But, honestly, I didn't even think about it…" She trailed off as she smiled ruefully at Hatter. There was a definite joke here that Carol was missing. She cleared her throat to alert her daughter to the fact that she was getting off track.

Alice did not find Jack in this house with the white rabbit emblem on the door. Instead, she ended up in a room with a bottle on the table that said "Drink Me". There was that other spark, and this one was more substantial. A strange pattern was forming; a literary pattern that was easily ferreted out by an English teacher.

_No…it couldn't be…_

The room had downsized into a box barely big enough for Alice to crouch in and the box started moving. But, with that uncanny, innate resourcefulness, she used one her hairpins to undo a latch and free herself from that prison, only to end up dropping herself in a lake from hundreds of feet in the air. Alice swam to shore to come face to face with a dirty, smell man in a slicker named Ratty, who agreed to help her only after hearing her name.

"Alice," Carol mouthed silently. _Alice in…no…come on, that's absurd._

The bizarre story continued. Ratty ended up leading her to a place called the Tea House which was run by none other than Mr. David Hatter himself here, whom Ratty had called "The Man Who Knows."

One thought came to Carol over this revelation. _My daughter is smitten with a man from another world? Well, she always had a weakness for foreigners, I suppose._

Hatter had agreed to help her find Jack, whose part in all this Alice had yet to reveal. Carol knew her daughter always liked to start at the beginning with things, leading them down to their logical conclusions. It was easier for her to grasp things in that manner, but Carol was itching to know what Jack's role was supposed to be. She still had yet to actually accept this story as truth, no matter her daughter's assertion from earlier. But she would listen as she promised.

"Mom, I don't suppose you've figured out where I was by now, have you?" Alice asked.

Well, in some form, yes, Carol had ascertained from all the clues hidden in the subtext the world her daughter was referring to. But she did not actually want to say it aloud. Even thinking it was preposterous. That was a children's book written well over a century ago! A much beloved children's book and always one of Carol's favorites (part of the reason she named her daughter Alice, in fact), but certainly not real in any sense of the world.

"Honey," Carol murmured, shaking her head. She eyed the wine cabinet. The bottle was calling to her now. _Dull the senses, make it easier to swallow this nonsense. Drink me._

"I know, and I don't blame you for being skeptical. But I was in Wonderland. Hatter is from Wonderland," Alice insisted. "Just stay with me, okay."

Hatter had taken her to some fortress called the Great Library, which acted as the stronghold for the Resistance. It housed one the Resistance leaders: a large, extremely unpleasant man named Dodo.

"Extremely unpleasant? Now that's giving him too much credit, love," Hatter mumbled, twisting his tea cup around. "I'd say he was more disgustingly vile or insufferably egotistical."

"He was a dick," Alice summarized. "He wanted the ring because apparently it controlled the Looking Glass and if it controlled the Looking Glass, it controlled the access to our world. He wanted to load up all the oysters from our world" she gestured to herself and to Carol, "and send them back so the Queen of Hearts couldn't use them to control Wonderland's population anymore and basically cause her entire government to collapse."

Looking Glass. Oysters. Queen of Hearts. Dodo. Wonderland. Dear god, Carol's head was starting to spin and she did not even have any alcohol in her system.

"When Alice didn't give up the ring, he ordered her to be taken out," Hatter said, picking up the thread of the story.

"But Hatter shielded me. He protected me and tried to get Dodo to back down and ended up getting shot in the process," Alice finished gravely, her hand clenching around Hatter's. "Luckily, he was wearing body armor though I didn't know it at the time."

Hatter chuckled. "Good thing, too, otherwise I'd have been deprived of one brilliant sight."

There was another rueful, mysterious smile on her daughter's face, but that point was not elaborated upon.

They had left the Great Library with the intent to return to Hatter's shop, only to find it crawling with the queen's men: the Suits, Alice called them. Leading the Suits was an assassin with a ceramic rabbit's head, who had spotted them. His name had been Mad March. They had been forced to make a run for it, jumping into a boat to cross the lake to end up in the dreaded forest known as the Tulgey Wood. In there, they faced off against a jabberwock and ended up meeting a senile, but doughty old man named Charlie, the last surviving White Knight. The Queen of Hearts had apparently obliterated the White Knights and their society 150 years beforehand.

"We stayed the night at Charlie's camp in the ruins of the old kingdom before I made kind of a stupid decision," Alice recounted. "I decided to defect and basically go after Jack by myself since Hatter seemed to think it would be impossible to get into the casino where the queen lived and held all those oysters captive."

"For the record, I didn't think getting in was the hard part. Getting out alive was the hard part," Hatter added.

"I know, sweetie," Alice replied.

Was it sad that Carol found the prospect of her daughter using terms of endearment with this man more unsettling than the story she was telling?

"Well, since I didn't know the way I pretty much had to let myself be captured by Mad March and his posse. I had the ring, so I figured I could negotiate for Jack's release and my own, you see. Well, I didn't actually have the ring on me. I wasn't really going to give it to them because then I'd be sealing the death warrants of Hatter and the rest of the Resistance. The ring was their only shot at taking down the queen, so I…tried to bluff her."

Hatter was shaking his head and mumbling what Carol was certain were profanities under his breath.

"And now you'll see where Jack fits into all this," Alice told her. "He was actually her son. Jack Heart, the Prince of Hearts, and heir to the throne of Wonderland. And he didn't really need my rescuing at all. It quickly became me who needed the rescuing once they sent me to the Tweedle Twins' mental torture chamber."

Carol stiffened with horror. The haunted gleam in Alice's eye was far too genuine for her tastes. Like that green mark, it gave more eerie credibility to a story that just could not possibly be true in a sane world. But maybe this was not a sane world at all. As for that revelation about Jack, she found herself on board with the idea of Jack not being all he had appeared. But to be a prince from an alternate dimension based upon a 19th century children's story was not precisely what she had expected.

"Why was he here, then?" Carol queried, not scornfully, but with genuine curiosity.

Alice's blue eyes hardened, filled with unseen thoughts and memories. "He was undercover. Jack was working with the Resistance to overthrow his mother. He was in this world on a mission…and I was kind of the objective of that mission."

"You?" Carol was taken aback. "Why you?"

She briefly glanced at Hatter. "That's sort of part of one of the other big confessions, which I'm not sure if I want to save for last or not. Just let me finish. I'm going to basically summarize what happened after that." She took a deep breath. "Hatter and Charlie rescued me from the Tweedles. He then went into the city to make contact with Caterpillar, the leader of the Resistance while Charlie and I headed back to camp."

"The leader of the Resistance was named Caterpillar?" Carol asked dryly.

Hatter guffawed while Alice just shook her head. "I know. Stupid, right? And he was probably one of the most incompetent leaders I had seen, not to mention he was higher than a hippie at Woodstock when I first met him. Anyway, Hatter got them to agree to send an agent to the camp where we were staying and he ended up showing up the next morning. The agent was Jack and that was how we learned he was part of the Resistance. Jack and I went to this place called the Hospital of Dreams where they treated the people of Wonderland who had become hooked on oyster emotions."

"Oyster emotions?" Carol repeated uncomprehendingly.

"Yeah, that was what they were after. The queen used the emotions she siphoned from the oysters—us—to subdue her people. Keep them all doped up and happy so they'll never challenge her authority, create dissent, or bother her with insane requests like clean water and food."

Carol certainly had to hand it to her daughter. She could cram all these complex, multifaceted issues into an ironic, one-sentence nutshell.

"Anyway…stuff happened at the Hospital of Dreams and Mad March and his crew found us. They took me and Jack prisoner, then Hatter just _had_ to come play hero again and nearly get himself killed," she recounted with mock annoyance, throwing an affectionate smile to Hatter.

But Hatter had gone curiously tight-lipped, his eyes closed shut. It was as if he was fighting some internal battle with memories he did not want to relive. Carol wondered what those memories contained, but feared asking. She had her fair share of painful ones.

"Complications arose, you could say, but in the end, Hatter and I were able to band together to wake up the oysters and, in the process, take out the entire casino building with some assisting by Charlie on the outside. The queen was deposed and Jack has been installed as king, and, no I'm not still with him. He has a very cool fiancé who would make a way better queen than me. The end."

Carol was silent for a long time as she processed this information and tried to wrap her head around the sheer magnitude of what her daughter had told her. Alice and Hatter watched her with a mixture of concern and hope, but did not say anything further. After an interminable amount of awkward silence, the woman did the only thing she could possibly do in reaction to such a story. She laughed.

"My goodness, honey, you have one vivid imagination. So, is this a story you've concocted to cover up the fact that you might have been seeing Hatter behind Jack's back?" Carol proposed, her frame shaking with unnatural giggles.

Alice groaned, pressing her hand to her forehead. Hatter winced as if he was in pain for some reason. He lightly shook Alice's other hand, which was gripping his very tightly.

"I mean, not that I exactly approve of such things, but you don't really have to spin some fairy tale for me. As long as you're happy, that's what matters to me," Carol continued as she rose to go to the wine cabinet. She pulled out that bottle of dark red wine and grabbed a large wine goblet. Once she set it on the table, she opened the bottle and proceeded to pour the crimson liquid into the glass. All the while, she just shook her head.

"Mom, I know it's hard...well, nearly impossible to believe. But I'm not making this up. I wish to god at some parts that I was making it up. But everything I told you is the truth," Alice insisted wearily.

"She's right, Mrs. Hamilton. I swear it on my hat that everything she told you actually happened," Hatter added.

Carol peered at him, trying to reconcile this handsome young man with the image of the Hatter from the book. He did not appear to have a streak of madness in him. Of course, she was not in any position to make that sort of assumption after not even knowing him for an hour. She took one large gulp of red wine, feeling the heavy liquid burn pleasantly on its way down her throat.

"We could prove it to her, Alice," Hatter suggested.

"How?"

"The Looking Glass," he said.

Alice vehemently shook her head. "I'd rather not take another trip through that thing, thanks."

"No, we could, you know, chuck something into it. A rock or something to show that the Looking Glass is not a normal mirror," he told her.

If this was all an act, those two certainly were playing it like a pair of seasoned thespians. But this was out of character for Alice. Spinning a wild, fantastic story of alternate dimensions, fictional stories come to life along with a more contemporary dash of political revolution was not something Carol would expect from her practical-minded, no-nonsense daughter. Worthy of noting was also the fact that, for better or worse, Alice and Hatter both appeared to truly believe their own tale. Carol stared at that bruise on her child's face. Could she have suffered some head trauma leading to one intricate, mass delusion? But, then, why would this young stranger, who seemed so familiar with Alice, vouch for the story?

"You were only gone an hour, sweetie!" Carol reminded her shrilly. Her grip on the half-emptied wine goblet trembled. She could not believe this. She would not believe this. It was too outrageous. It defied all logic.

"I know. But I spent about five days in Wonderland. The Looking Glass can be adjusted to send a person back to close to the original time he or she first entered it. I didn't want you to worry so I had it send me back to as close to the time I went through it first as possible," Alice explained.

"Five days?" Carol repeated, shooting Hatter a cagey glance. "And five days was all it took for you to fall for this man?" Now that was definitely unbelievable. Her daughter the heartbreaking commitment-phobe took several months to even work up the courage to bring a man home for dinner.

But Alice smiled at this, a whimsical smile of happiness unlike anything Carol had ever witnessed from her. "It took less time than that, actually."

_My god, she's glowing,_ Carol thought to herself. There was no arguing the point that the girl who had left this house an hour ago was not the same girl who sat before her now, gazing lovingly at the man next to her. Carol was caught between denouncing it and embracing it. Was this not what she had always wanted for Alice all along? To just be happy? To find contentment and fulfillment? Well, the wish had been granted, but it was not in a way which she was certain she could believe or even like. And those two had known each other for such a short time, if at least part of Alice's story was to be believed. How could a relationship be sustained on such an insubstantial foundation?

"Mom, just how many mind-bending revelations do you think you can take in one night? Because the next two things I tell you will kind of blow that last one out of the water," Alice warned. She was nervously drumming the fingers of her free hand on the table top. Carol noticed the knuckles were inexplicably red.

She highly doubted there was anything that could top the tale her daughter had just told and Carol had not accepted it as a true revelation by any means. But she motioned for Alice to go ahead, knocking back a few more gulps of wine as she did so.

"Oh Jesus…" Alice muttered, bringing her hand up to wipe at her brow. "The thing is, Mom…I've been kind of hiding something from you for the past six years. And I really should have told you from the beginning."

_Six years?_ Six years ago her daughter had been fifteen years old; a mere freshmen in high school. Her heart thudded ominously, matching the coiling knot of dread which formed in her stomach. There was something else that had occurred when Alice had been fifteen, something Carol desperately attempted to purge from her memory. That was when Alice had disappeared for several months, sending nothing but vaguely worded letters filled with empty reassurances. All those letters had been suspiciously free of a return address, of course. Carol had been nearly out of her mind with agony and worry. She had had to take an impromptu sabbatical from work, unable to put her mind to teaching other people's children when her own was missing.

"Mom, the truth is that we live on a mystical convergence of evil. That's why there are so many weird things going on. That's why there are all those deaths and disappearances that put New York's rates to shame. That's why it's not safe to go out at night. There are things out there much scarier and much more lethal than any human criminal." A chilly silence descended upon the kitchen. Carol was frozen, mind and body. Alice took a deep breath and then said, "And I've been spending the past six years hunting down those things and killing them for a living. I'm a Vampire Slayer, Mom."

The only sound after that was the sound of Carol's wine goblet slipping from her nerveless hand. It smashed against the linoleum, flinging shards of glass and droplets of red wine in every direction.

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_To be continued…hehehehe…_


	36. A Merry, Mad World, Part II

Well, here it is: the last official chapter. Just an epilogue to follow and then this story shall be complete. Many thanks to my readers and reviewers for all their wonderful encouragement and support! I especially want to thank **Alaina Downs** for letting me bounce ideas off of her.

I will gladly accept any and all suggestions or ideas for the sequel since the format will be radically different from this story. I'm modeling it after the _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_/_Angel_ television series with small stories and subplots (a.k.a. "episodes") being woven into a wider tapestry. If there are canon characters from the original shows you want to see, or any ideas for conflicts/big bads, etc…just PM me or email me through the link in my profile. I will welcome them all and if I make use of them I will give full credit to whoever put forth the idea/ideas, I promise!

I already gave you a few glimpses into who some of the regular canon characters will be for the sequel and I give you some more in this chapter. See if you can pick them out ;)

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**Chapter XXXV: **A Merry, Mad World, Part 2

Droplets of wine and shards of glass scattered across the linoleum. One of the shards sliced a small crimson path through the side of Alice's bare leg. She winced, but otherwise ignored the small injury. It was her mother she was concerned about. The woman seemed frozen in place, her hand poised as if it still gripped the wine glass. Her cheeks, which had been developing a slight rosy glow due to the alcohol, drained of all color. As expected, she stared at her as if she had just sprouted a limb out of her forehead.

Alice struck down the urge to wave her hand in front of her mother's face. "Mom?"

Finally, the woman blinked, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, honey, I don't think I heard you correctly…did you just say you were a…" there was a long pause, as if Carol had to force the words out, "a _Vampire_ Slayer?"

"You do know what vampires are, right? See, we don't have them in my world so Alice had to explain them to me," Hatter mildly interjected.

"Yes, of course I know what they are," Carol sputtered, her tone sounding somewhat indignant. Her blue eyes swiveled over to Alice and the girl felt her face redden under the intensity of the gaze. "But they aren't…" her lips quivered and bulged out. She brought a hand up to her mouth and just shook her head. Her eyes fluttered shut.

Guilt speared through Alice. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, Mom. It was…" She could not, try as she might, summon a reason to justify her silence on the matter. Oh, there were reasons. But she was beginning to see those reasons for what they truly were: selfish. It had seemed like too onerous of a task. She had not wanted her mother to see her in a different light or to always worry about her. She had fooled herself into believing it had been for her mother's own protection when she had truly been doing it just to make things easier on herself. In reality, there was no excuse for omitting the truth for the past six years. Perpetual ignorance had placed her mother in a lot danger. The girl's gut twisted horribly at the thought.

Carol abruptly stood, sending her chair sliding back a few feet. She snatched up the broom and dust pan from where they rested next to the trash can and began vigorously sweeping up the broken glass and smearing the wine all over the floor. Her movements were tight, controlled. Alice could practically see the muscles in her arms bunching up with tension. The mundane task became a refuge, absorbing her with its familiar logic. She could understand the appeal.

Hatter sent her a sidelong glance full of concerned questions. She just shrugged. In retrospect, it had been considerably easier confessing the story to him. Having been brought up in a different world where magic was common knowledge if not actively used, he did not have the pre-conceptions her mother had. There had been no entrenched belief that vampires were mere figments of ancient folktales and legends to overcome. Accepting their existence had been no difficult feat for him. It was going to be a different matter altogether for her mother. What she was about to tell her mother would defy a lifetime's worth of accepted beliefs and "facts". People in general tended to violently resist accepting truths which did not fit with their meticulously constructed worldviews. But not all hope was lost. Her mother was quite open-minded and progressive. Alice was just going to be testing the limits of that open-mindedness.

"Mom, listen to me, please," Alice implored. "Just listen."

The woman halted in her task, but her entire frame trembled. She turned to face Hatter and Alice, who remained seated at the table, warily watching her. There was a stern gleam in her eyes, at war with the spark of fear and haunting suspicion. What the suspicion entailed, Alice did not know. Perhaps Carol was simply afraid her daughter may have lost her mind. But, then again, perhaps she was also afraid the story might ring with truth. Living atop the mouth of hell for nearly two decades had to have implanted some seeds of suspicion, though the peculiarly human trait to rationalize away the uncanny would have posed a strong counter force. Those seeds, those little whispers of wonder and instinct, were the ticket. Alice would have to feed them, make them grow and bloom. She would have to transform those subconscious suspicions into conscious realization.

She quelled the instinctual rising of trepidation and cleared her throat. "Six years ago, when I went away for a long time," she began in a quavering voice. Remorse and horror over those memories swirled within her, clogging up her throat. Her mother was likewise afflicted. The woman backed into the counter, gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She swallowed thickly and, with Hatter's gentle, reassuring squeeze on her hand, continued. "It wasn't me acting out in angsty teenage rebellion or some stupid quest to find Dad. You see, I never told you what happened a few days before that. I was attacked on my way home from judo class." In a calm, collected voice, she recited the account of that fateful day's events. Gradually, her mother released her grip on the counter and slid back into her chair at the table. Her tense features slackened into a mask of entrancement as she listened to the story.

Hesitation gripped her as she recounted her time in Sunnydale. There were parts of that story she intentionally glossed over or skipped altogether. Her mother was going to have enough mental and emotional upheavals to absorb without also having to contend with the notion that young girls had died horribly gruesome deaths at the hands of the servants of the First Evil. She also remained vague on the details of the gory final battle against the Turok-Han vampires in which she herself had received a severe abdominal wound. The urge to keep her mother protected from the morbid truth of reality was still difficult to defy.

Tears welled up in her mother's eyes. Her hands fluttered up to cover her mouth once more. They then enclosed over her entire face and Carol bowed her head, her chest heaving with sobs. Alice's heart clenched with pain and guilt at seeing her mother's emotional distress. But she had to wonder what it meant. She had expected her mother to be railing at her now, perhaps demanding she been seen by a psychiatrist.

"I'm so sorry, Mom. I was so scared in Sunnydale almost all the time. I never thought I would see you again and there were times when I just wanted to run away. And I didn't think you would understand. I thought you would just call me crazy or just be really angry with me…well, you kind of were anyway," she said, smiling sadly, "which I sort of deserved."

Carol sucked in a deep breath through her hands and lifted her face up. Her red-rimmed blue eyes, the very color she had passed onto her daughter, gazed out with agonized intensity.

"You put me through hell those months, Alice," she softly declared, her voice permeated with pain.

"I know," Alice replied in remorse. "And I am really sorry about that. But there were things going on that were bigger than you and me. I had to go, Mom. If I had stayed, I was risking both your life and my life. I escaped from the Bringers once and I didn't want to take the chance that I could do it again, especially since I was terrified they might do something to you, too."

Carol shook her head. Alice could tell she was trying to resist. This was not a thing any parent wanted to hear. But those seeds of doubt were sprouting, rooting themselves into her psyche. Alice was providing the pieces to a puzzle her mother had likely never consciously acknowledged, but one that had been plaguing the fringes of her mind nonetheless.

"No," her mother declared. But the conviction in her voice was feeble. Those seeds of doubt and suspicion were subverting the denial. Alice did not know whether to cheer or despair at that.

"No, no, no," Carol repeated. Her chest heaved again, a sob clawing its way up her throat.

Alice steeled herself against her mother's distress. Would it have been like this if she had been upfront with her mother from the start? Perhaps it would have been wiser to tell her mother the truth upon returning from Sunnydale. But there was no changing the choice she had made. All she could do now was move forward and hope she could atone for the pain she had and would cause her beloved mother.

"Think about where we live, Mom. There is a reason Cleveland has such a horrific reputation. Although you probably haven't noticed, but the all those weird occurrences and mysterious deaths and disappearance have declined in the past six years." She caught Hatter's wisp of a proud smile and felt a small flood of warmth over that. She was grateful he was here, lending her his love and support. It made this distasteful task much more tolerable.

"Because of you," Carol stated in a flat tone.

Alice shook her head. "Not just me. We established a base here. There are lots of other girls who live and fight here. And we have allies; those who aren't Vampire Slayers that help us fight against evil."

This elicited a huff of disbelief from her mother. She started to shake her head again. The girl understood the urge to hang onto denial. Familiarity and logic bred comfort, and being thrown into something so completely foreign and incomprehensible was always frightening.

But the wheels were turning. Her mother was fiercely intelligent, much like her father. She could practically see the synapses firing in her brain, making connections and filling in gaps of knowledge. The fine skin of her forehead wrinkled. "Those friends that you're always with…they are…" she swallowed, patting her throat, "like you?"

"Not all of them. But, most of them, yes," answered Alice.

Her mother took a few moments to process this. Her hands were pressed up alongside her nose, the fingertips pressing into the inner ridges of her eyes. She tilted her head up to the ceiling, pulled her hands away to run them through her hair, and drew in some deep breaths. Alice and Hatter waited patiently in silence.

"So, you've been doing this ever since…you were in high school?" Carol asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Alice nodded. "I became more involved after graduating, but, yes, I've been doing it for six years now."

A sound came from Carol, somewhere between a sob and a gasp. She then violently shook her head. "No," she stated. "No, I don't accept that, Alice." The wetness overflowed and a few tears rolled down her cheek.

Alice inclined her head. Though guilt and sympathy were raging within her, she forced herself to remain tranquil in the face of it. "That's your choice, Mom. But it's the truth, no matter if you accept it or not. I kill vampires and demons for a living."

Her mother's eyes narrowed. "You get paid for it?"

She nodded. "Quite a lot, actually. Slayers didn't used to get paid, but that was back when there was only one at a time. We changed the rules." She quirked an eyebrow. "What, did you think I made a lot from being a martial arts instructor?"

"No, I just thought…you were really good at budgeting," her mother replied with a weak shrug.

Alice let out a sardonic snort. "I'm not too bad at it, but I'm not _that_ good. Do you want me to pull up my bank accounts as proof I'm not making this up?" As soon as she put forth the suggestion, she regretted it. There were other reasons for a sizable bank account; reasons which might shed doubt on legality. She did not want her mother to think she was some kind of criminal.

"Show her," Hatter advised. "Show her what you can do."

Alice considered this. There was absolutely no way she was going to take her mother out into the night and slay a vampire in front of her. That was far too risky and she had had more than enough shocks for the night. Seeing a body explode into dust could be a traumatizing experience. Her other unique abilities such as her accelerated healing and enhanced stamina were not particularly self-evident for this type of situation. That left only one option: her strength. But even that had its obstacles. Alice had spent years training in the martial arts. So her mother would already expect her to be at least slightly stronger and more athletic than an average young woman of her age. It would take an impressive demonstration to show that her strength went above and beyond the normal limits of a human being.

"What do you mean by that?" Carol asked him.

"Mom, Slayers have some enhanced abilities. They're kind of necessary to fight vampires and demons," Alice explained. She glanced around the room and also perused her mental catalog of all the things in their home which might have some use in such a demonstration. There were very few options that did not entail some threat of destruction, such as kicking the door off its hinges or punching through the wall. Her mother would certainly not appreciate those.

"You should see how strong she is," Hatter touted with gusto. "She kicked that fat git Dodo clear across a room and nearly through the wall. Then she lifted him up above her head and slammed him onto a desk. It was bloody hilarious!"

Carol did not seem to share his enthusiasm. She stared at him in the grips of speechless disbelief before turning her eyes to her daughter. Alice shrank back, her cheeks turning crimson.

"Come on, Alice. Show her how strong you are!" Hatter wheedled. He gestured to himself. "You can use me. Just toss me across the room or down the hallway."

"What?" Alice sputtered. "No!"

"Why not?"

She vigorously shook her head. "Are you crazy? You could get hurt!" Not to mention such an act could result in the property destruction she was trying to avoid.

He flapped his hand, appearing to be completely unperturbed by that prospect. "Oh I can take it. I'm from Wonderland. We're made of strong stuff. Dodo seemed to be all right after you chucked him across his office and into a wall and he's kind of old. I, on the other hand, am all young and fit." His lips curled up into a cocky grin, which she had to shamelessly admit was quite sexy and befitting of him.

Carol just sat in silent wonderment, observing the exchange with unreadable features.

"Come on, love. I trust you," Hatter asserted. "But your mum needs some proof."

Alice drew in a deep breath and regarded her boyfriend. She appreciated his trust in her abilities, and it was not unduly misplaced. She had learned better than any Slayer how to control and modulate her strength. It had been a necessary skill to master in order to work with regular people on a day-to-day basis. A controlled toss like Hatter was asking could be accomplished with little to no damage.

"All right, get up," Alice relented. He eagerly obeyed and she shook her head at his bizarre excitement to participate in an act which could result in bodily injury. While she had to admire his cockiness, it did not bode well for living on a hellmouth. Misplaced confidence had killed some of the best Slayers she had known.

"Alice, really, you need to stop this…charade," her mother protested, rising from her seat.

The protests fell silent when Alice grabbed a fistful of Hatter's silk shirt and hoisted him into the air with one arm. It belatedly occurred to her that perhaps that was all the demonstration of her immense strength that would be required. Her mother let out a screeching gasp at the sight. But Hatter's cockiness had tapped into her own dormant desire to show off, and so the move had already been sanctioned by upper management. With one controlled heave, she thrust her arm outward, propelling her boyfriend into the air. Her aim struck true, landing him on the couch, though he actually bounced off the cushioned edge and tumbled to the carpet with a grunt.

"Ow, I think I bruised me bum," Hatter complained as he got to his feet, rubbing his backside. Otherwise, he appeared to be completely unharmed. Alice breathed a sigh of relief.

She just shook her head, unable to dispel the smirk forming on her face. "Don't say I didn't warn you," she told him.

He gave her a devious grin, his eyes lighting up with a particular gleam. "I guess you'll just have to…" he then stopped himself from completing what was no doubt going to be an inappropriately timed sexual request. His gaze flashed towards her shell-shocked mother and he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right, well then, good show, Alice. I think we got the point across."

"Oh my god," Carol whispered from behind Alice.

The girl turned to face her. "See? No amount of years of martial arts training could give me the strength to do that."

"Oh my god," her mother moaned again. She cupped one hand over her mouth, while the other flew back to steady herself against the table. Her legs buckled and Alice immediately rushed to her side to help ease her back into the chair.

Carol sat at the table, her head bowed into her hands. Alice withdrew a few paces back to give her mother some space. Hatter, the devious grin wiped from his face and replaced with a serious, concerned expression, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

"Oh my god…all those times you were out with your friends," Carol mumbled, her voice muffled by the hands pressed up against her lips. She sucked in a deep breath of air and slid her hands down. The skin of her face was completely bleached. "You'd be gone for days sometimes…oh my god. That's why."

"Well, it wasn't always because I was fighting demons. Sometimes we were actually just hanging out," Alice said weakly.

"How come you've never been hurt?" Carol demanded. "That has to be so dangerous!" Her gaze probed Alice's face. The girl cringed when the wrecking ball of realization slammed into her mother. "Oh my god…you were fighting…them…tonight, weren't you? That's what happened to your face."

The last thing Alice wanted to do was review the lengthy inventory of injuries she had sustained throughout the years as a Vampire Slayer. Her mother was long overdue the truth, but she did not need to know all the dirty details.

Alice swallowed, unable to resist the impulse to glance away from her mother's piercing eyes. "This is really nothing, Mom. We heal very fast and Slayers can take a lot more damage than a normal person," she admitted.

Hatter made a hissing noise of protest. But the words were out, and she had completely overlooked the fact that her mother was a very sharp woman. Carol picked up on the sinister implication like a bloodhound on a scent. Breath wheezed from her mouth in a wrenching sob. Pure, gut-wrenching horror, the very emotion Alice had always tried to avoid eliciting from her mother because of this job, overtook her features.

"Oh my god…Alice…" Her mother trembled.

Never had she seen her mother so distraught, not even after her father disappeared or after the search for him was finally halted. She ached to do something to comfort her, to wipe that anguish from her face. But she remained rooted to the spot by fear. Fear that now her mother knew the truth, she would never see her in the same way again. Up until this moment, she had never realized just how much she had depended on her mother's steady, composed attitude. Her cheerful practicality had always been a solid foundation for her to fall back on. The woman had been her rock amidst a sea of never-ending chaos. And now, with this revelation, she may have just destroyed her own safe harbor. The thought left her feeling bereft and afraid. She gripped Hatter's hand, only just barely remembering not to clutch so hard. It seemed more auspicious than ever that he had come into her life.

"Have I met them?"

The question, posed in a surprisingly serene tone, caught Alice off guard. She did not understand what her mother was asking. "I'm sorry…have you met who?"

"Those friends of yours that are…" Carol swallowed, "like you."

"Oh, um…" She had to give the answer some thought. "A few, I guess," she concluded with uncertainty. "Maire is a Slayer. So are Shannon and Faith. I think you've also met Bekah, Chloe, Vi, Katie…maybe Reeta. Other than that, I'm not sure. I really didn't keep track." She was not certain why this was important, but she sincerely hoped she had not just inadvertently landed all those girls on some sort of blacklist.

"What about Cindy?" Her mother named off a girl Alice had been friends with since middle school and with whom she attended college with. Cindy's was one of the few friendships she had managed to maintain outside the circle of Slayers, witches, vampires, demons, and otherwise supernatural beings.

Alice shook her head. "Cindy's not. And, before you ask, she doesn't know about me being a Slayer."

Her mother visibly flinched at the word. She hoped that was just because she had not been fully acclimated to the idea yet.

As if the last question was not random enough, the next one her mother asked came entirely from left field to Alice.

"That's what happened to your father, isn't it?" she asked. She glanced up at Alice, her eyes seething with dread and misery. "He was taken by one of those…" a deep shudder ran through her, "_things_."

"What?" Alice obtusely replied.

"Oh my god! Did you have to…_slay_ him?" the woman cried.

"No! No, no," Alice quickly and emphatically assured her. "And thank god because there's enough drama in all this already. I don't even want to imagine the amount of therapy I would need if that happened. No, the hellmouth and Slayer stuff actually had nothing to do with Dad's disappearance. Kind of ironic isn't it?"

"Or not, depending on how you look at it," Hatter chimed.

Whatever irony or lack thereof existed, Carol did not seem to appreciate it. She leveled a shrewd, bloodshot gaze at Alice. "How do you know it had nothing to do with your father's disappearance?"

Right about now it would have been real useful to have developed some skills with magic. A teleportation spell or invisibility spell was looking quite appealing. But there was no way to avoid dropping this bomb, not after she had already dropped the other two. There was no predicting how her mother would react to the truth about her father and where he had been. In all honesty, she did not know what to expect.

"Because Dad is alive and I saw him…in Wonderland," she confessed.

Carol's jaw nearly unhinged with how far it dropped. She gawked at her daughter while an eternity of silence passed.

"Remember how we told you that men from Wonderland would abduct people from this side?"

Her mother did not nod or react in any way, shape, or form to the question, but Alice decided to assume she had heard and registered it.

"Well, Dad was one of the ones who got abducted. Only, unlike most everyone else, his was a targeted abduction. They wanted him for his knowledge and training in biochemistry and neurology. They brainwashed him, wiped his memories of us and his life here completely clean and implanted new, false memories of working in the labs over there."

Carol's hand fluttered down to her chest. Her mouth remained agape, her eyes as wide as tea saucers.

Alice's voice cracked as she unveiled the full and ugly truth. "They transformed him into a man called Carpenter under the direct order of the Queen of Hearts. And he created the method of extracting emotions from the people over here and also devised the ways to keep them in a perpetual, waking dream-like state so they never knew what was happening to them."

"No!" Carol's wail was strident. "Listen to yourself, Alice…do you realize what you're saying?"

She regarded her mother with weary sadness. "I do. It's the truth. But let me finish, please. There's more to it."

Carol closed her mouth. More tears slipped down her cheeks.

"You have to understand, Mom. That wasn't Dad doing those things. Dad would never have done something so unethical. It goes against everything he stood for, I know this. But he wasn't your husband. He wasn't my father. He was the Carpenter at the time. And he was the key to taking down the Queen of Hearts. You asked why I was the objective of Jack's mission. Well, Dad was the reason why. The Resistance needed me to wake him up, to make him remember who he really was so he would release those people."

Carol shook uncontrollably. "Oh my god…Alice, this can't be true. It can't be. If your father is still alive and was in Wonderland, why isn't he with you?"

"He _is_ alive," Alice insisted gently. She tentatively approached her mother and crouched down on one knee. "He's alive and he remembers everything. I woke him up." Specifically, it had been her fall off the top level of the city to what everyone had figured would be her death that had woken her father up. But she was not about to elaborate on that one.

"He'll be coming back, Mrs. Hamilton," Hatter added. "He only stayed to help the rest of your people and some of the Wonderland folk who had been twisted by the emotions. But he's coming back here to you and Alice. He misses you a lot."

Alice laid a hand on her mother's knee, a small smile spreading on her face. "See? Dad's coming back! Isn't that good news?"

Carol sniffled and drew up a trembling hand to push away some hair which had become adhered to her face by the tears. "I...don't…this can't be real."

Her heart sank at those words of denial.

"Sweetheart, I know your father's disappearance traumatized you. I should have taken you to see a therapist when you were younger," Carol mumbled. Every few words there was an interjecting hiccup.

Alice groaned and pulled herself to her feet. "Mom, I'm not crazy. This isn't a delusion-spawned cry for help. This is the truth. You saw me lift Hatter into the air with one arm and toss him a good ten feet, right? I mean, if you can accept the whole Vampire Slayer bit, why can't you accept the truth about Dad and Wonderland?"

Tears streamed down Carol's face. She wrapped her arms around herself and hunched over her knees. She stayed in that position, quietly weeping while Alice watched over her in helpless agony.

"Mom, I'm so sorry I kept the slaying stuff from you. I know I should have told you the truth from the beginning," she stated. Grudgingly, she had to admit she had a better grasp of Jack's dilemma about keeping his true identity from her. It made her feel like an awful hypocrite.

"And I know these other things are a major shock. But I swear on my life that it's all true. Dad will be here in two weeks. He'll back me up. So…just try to hang in there till then, okay?" Surely seeing the man she loved whom she had never stopped loving would heal the wounds inflicted on her heart since his disappearance. Through the years without her father, Alice had seen how her mother would bravely lock away her pain and focus her energy into taking care of the two of them. She had hidden her longing for him well, but Alice knew it was always there. Why else would she never have allowed herself to pursue a casual fling let alone a meaningful relationship? There must have been some part of Carol that had held onto the hope that her husband was alive and would eventually return.

"I think…I think I'm going to go to bed now," Carol stated hollowly. Her blotchy face and eyes were disturbingly blank. Whatever she was feeling or thinking, she hid it well. It was a mask of reticence that would have earned a seal of approval from the duchess.

Alice and Hatter exchanged worried glances.

"Uh, okay, if that's what you want," Alice replied with some hesitance. "Are you okay?"

Her mother rose from the table, keeping her face averted from Hatter and Alice. She stood there, seemingly trying to compose herself and her thoughts before finally lifting her gaze up to the couple.

"Mr. Hatter, I apologize for this rather…unorthodox first meeting. To be honest, I'm still not sure what to think of you or…where you supposedly come from, but I can see that you make my daughter happy. So long as you do that, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," she informed him.

"Uh, thanks," Hatter responded diffidently. "I think."

"Mom-"

Carol held her hand up, effectively silencing her daughter's protest. "Alice, please," she requested in a soft, calm voice which belied her inner turmoil, "no more. I just…I'm tired. And I need to think. I need some time to process all this."

Alice nodded curtly, feeling a lump rise up her throat. She forlornly watched her mother retreat down the hallway and disappear behind her bedroom door. After a few moments of silence, she crumpled into Hatter's arms, weeping.

"She hates me! This is all my fault. I should have told her the truth six years ago and now look at what I've done!" she wailed. "I'm such a crappy daughter."

"Shhhh, love, that's not true," Hatter said soothingly, rubbing her back. He gently tugged her towards the couch. "She's just had a wee bit of a shock, is all. You said that most everyone doesn't believe in this kind of stuff over here. You can't exactly expect her to convert after one night."

"But the way she looked at me, Hatter. It was like she didn't even want to look at me. She couldn't even make herself say the word 'Slayer'. I'm like an alien to her…what if she's afraid of me now? Like I'm not something human. And I thought she'd be happy to hear about Dad, but…" Her words became lost amidst the sobs wracking her body. She felt like she was grieving. Grieving the loss of the strong bond between her and her mother. For now things would surely never be the same between them. And she had no one to blame but herself.

She rested her head against Hatter's shoulder, her face turned inward to press up against the leather of his jacket. The absurd wish to keep his jacket free from the saltiness of her tears made her turn her face outward again.

"Alice, listen to me, your mum loves you more than anything. She's shaken up right now, but that doesn't mean she loves you any less," Hatter said. His tone was full of firm compassion. "Think about what you just told her about yourself. She's going to have to come to grips with the fact that your job is so dangerous and…" he drew in a deep, shuddering breath, "well, it's not something a mother would particularly like hearing about her only child. I didn't much like hearing it meself, but, it's who you are. That's probably why she can't bring herself to say your title. It probably represents to her the one thing most likely to…take you away from her."

She read the meaning in his voice, practically hearing him include himself at the end of that sentence. That only served to bring forth another fresh batch of tears streaking down her cheeks. This was not how she had envisioned spending her first night back home with Hatter. It was supposed to have been a joyous affair, preferably the majority of it spent in a bed without clothes. Instead she was sobbing over the pain and distress she had caused her mother on her living room sofa. She was letting her feminine weaknesses and insecurities overrule her usual level-headed competence.

"I'm sorry, Hatter. I know we had much better things planned tonight," she murmured in a raspy voice. She rubbed at her eyes and pulled her dark hair back from her face.

He smiled gently and bestowed a kiss on her forehead. "I can't think of anything better than just being here with you." Like clockwork, that soft smile transformed into a smirk. "Okay, I lied, I can think of something better than just being with you." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Being inside you."

In spite of herself, she laughed and then smacked him on the arm. "You're so bad."

"You like it. And, look, it got you to smile. So I guess you're just as bad as me," he teased while twirling a dark lock of hair around his finger.

She offered a half-smile in response to that. With a heavy sigh, she threw a glimpse over her shoulder towards the hallway leading towards her and her mother's bedrooms. "Think she'll ever forgive me?" she asked him.

"Of course she will. Not that I think there's really much to forgive. I mean, sure you kept the whole Slayer bit from her for six years, but I would think that the nature of your job more than compensates for that," Hatter confidently replied. "Just give her some time and space. In fact, I think you should give her so much space that you need not spend the night here tonight. Why I happen to have a place somewhere in the neighborhood you could find safe haven."

"Oh really?" Alice asked saucily, happy to join the banter. "And what would I have to do for the privilege of this safe haven?"

Hatter pretended to think about this, scratching his chin and wrinkling his brow. She suppressed the uprising of giggles. Really, it was wonderfully confounding how he managed to lift her spirits with such effortless alacrity. "Oh, there are a lot of things you may have to do. For starters, I believe there's the matter of a bruised bum that needs massaging."

"I do believe you volunteered for that so I take no responsibility for that bruised bum," she pointed out. Not that she was unwilling to give his well-toned buttocks a massage. She just enjoyed giving him a hard time.

"Hmmm…sorry, love, this offer of safe haven is conditional upon an arse massage and completely non-negotiable. Also note there is the condition that I get to lick you out for as long as I want," he told her in a mock stern voice.

Her pulse quickened, sending warmth spiraling through her veins. Her nether regions throbbed with awakened excitement, moving her to unconsciously press her thighs closer together. She let out an exaggerated sigh of resignation. "Well, if you must, then I suppose I agree to your terms."

"Good, we'll leave immediately," he replied in that same mock stern voice before sheepishly adding, "But you'll have to take us there because I haven't the faintest bloody clue where I live now."

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Don't forget to review, please! Oh and if you want to see the collection of photos inspired by this story, check out my profile where I posted a link to my photobucket account. I'm always happy to take suggestions for more good photos or artwork, too!


	37. Epilogue

Thanks so much to those who have read and reviewed and stuck with me throughout this journey. I'm in awe of how much attention this story garnered since _Buffy the Vampire Slayer _has been off the air for 8 years now. It really means a lot that you all like the story and even the simplest review telling me that you like it is like gold. I hope I will see you for the sequel.

**Update for 10/01/11 for New Readers: **The sequel is in full gear and the first two chapters are posted. The title is **"Hatter on a Hellmouth" **and it is listed in under **"Alice, 2009 Crossovers"** under the **"Buffy the Vampire Slayer"** subsection. So if you liked this story, be sure to check out the sequel and let me know what you think!

Major thanks once again to **Alaina Downs** for allowing me to exchange ideas with her. Make sure you all check out her AU take on "Alice" called **"Scarborough Fair"**! And I swear it was only coincidence that she had the flu as well for we live very far apart haha.

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**Epilogue**

Six months passed in Wonderland before Robert decided he had done all he could possibly do to smooth the path of recovery for the unfortunately large proportion of the population that had become addicted to Tea. Most of the oysters—_people of Earth_—had been returned to their homes and families. Their progress was lightly monitored by former Resistance operatives who now served as legitimate White Rabbit agents. These people had been abruptly torn from their lives and had had their minds and memories violated. It was a traumatic experience not likely to be recovered from in a mere week's time. All manner of support, especially financial, was to be given in the event these people needed psychiatric help to come to terms with what had happened to them. Though it was stressful on the depleted treasury of the monarchy, Robert extracted Jack's promise that he would do anything within his means to improve the lives of these people his mother had so deeply wronged.

There was some protest at carrying the same name, for the titles of White Rabbit and Suit carried dark, violent connotations many Resistance members did not want to be associated with. Never mind that many had served in those positions under cover for several years. The new King of Hearts quieted their protests with a stern reminder that the White Rabbit and Suit names had been tarnished by the actions of the former queen and now was their chance to regain the honor that was stolen from them.

A fraction of the oysters elected to remain in Wonderland. There were various reasons these people felt they could not or simply did not want to return to the world of their birth. Some had nothing to return to. No families, no wives or husbands, some had no jobs, and there were a few who had not even had homes. To return to that, they felt, was a fate worse than what the Queen of Hearts had had in store for them. So they petitioned the king for citizenship and were granted it on the condition they learn and adopt Wonderland customs and work for their food and lodging. But they would be assured jobs, homes, food, and security, something that could never have been done back in their native world. Secretly, Robert believed the king was grateful for the request for many of the natives were crammed into the Hospital of Dreams and its smaller sister clinics, too overwhelmed by addiction and withdrawal to be of any real use.

One of these people approached Robert at Diamond Manor one day several weeks after Alice and Hatter had departed Wonderland. He was a tall, thin man somewhere in his late thirties or early forties. He had reddish brown hair tied up at the nape of his neck into a stringy pony-tail. His clothes were thread-bare, but at least seemed to have been washed though there were still many permanent stains. He wore a pair of round glasses which seemed to have been broken several times throughout his life, but underneath those lenses rested a pair of thoughtful dark gray eyes.

"Mr. Hamilton, sir?" the man politely greeted.

Robert looked up from the stack of files he had been reading over. He regarded the man, immediately identifying him as an oyster though the green mark had been removed.

"My name is Stan Galicky and I just wanted to say…um…that I…uh…think I may have met your daughter Alice before coming here."

Robert's raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

The man shoved his hands into his pockets. Robert noted the way he continually watched his surroundings, as if he feared being attacked at any moment. At first he thought it was because of being abducted and waking up in a different dimension. But he quickly learned there was a very different reason for the way he acted.

"She probably doesn't remember me. But I was homeless back…in the other world, you see. And, well, to be perfectly honest, I'd rather be homeless here than be homeless there. I'm kinda lucky to be alive. Things there will just eat you alive."

It would be quite a while before Robert would learn that Stan meant this literally.

Stan scratched at the back of his head for a few moments in silence before plundering on. "And, well, I asked her for change while she was crossing the street with a bag of groceries. Most people just ignore that I'm there, but she didn't. She came right up to me and pulled out a bag of apples." He smiled, showing off his row of crooked, yellowed teeth. "Not exactly what I was expectin' but I guess beggars can't be choosers."

Robert felt it would be inappropriate to laugh at that remark, so he suppressed the chuckle which tried to emerge. But he felt a swell of pride in his heart at hearing of his daughter's sense of compassion, something her mother must have continued to nurture.

"But I think it's because of her that I'm here. I think those apples linked us, in a way. And if I could I'd like to thank her for leading me to this place. I never amounted to much back on Earth and I'm pretty certain I would have died homeless and alone. But here I think I can start fresh and make something of myself. I don't know if she'll ever come back to Wonderland, but I hear you're going back to her so…if you don't mind…" The man paused to reach into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small object.

Robert leaned forward, intrigued.

Stan cupped the object in the palm of his hands, staring at it with tender reverence. He then stretched his arm out towards Robert to indicate that he could take the object.

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to give that to her as a thank you from me," he requested.

The object was a small wooden sculpture of Alice depicted in extraordinary detail with the addition of a pair of outstretched wings sprouting from her back. Even though the carving barely spanned the entire width of his hand, Robert could make out the individual feathers in the wings. He had carved the features of her face with that fierce determined expression so well that Robert almost wondered if Alice had agreed to sit for this. It must have taken years to develop and hone a talent as magnificent as this.

"This is…brilliant, Mr. Galicky," Robert praised as he turned the sculpture over in his hands.

The man's face reddened and he ducked his gaze. He was clearly not used to receiving compliments. "Aw, well, I had a lot of time to get it right back in the old world."

"I'll see that she gets it and that she knows it's from you," Robert promised him. What he did not tell him was that he was not sure how his daughter would react to being viewed as an angel or divine being. She did not strike him as the type to see flattery in that.

Stan's homely, pock-marked face split into a wide, grateful smile. "Thank you, sir."

Robert kept the miniature, angelic carving of Alice in a little mahogany box lined with ivory velvet provided by the Duchess of Diamonds. He would miss the young woman who had proved herself to be a hostess of endless compassion and generosity. At least it appeared the king was still set upon marrying her, but when the marriage would take place was anyone's guess. The couple were taking their courtship slowly, putting the more imperative matter of the state of the realm above their own personal desires.

When the day of his departure dawned some six months after Alice and Hatter had left, Robert left for the Looking Glass Hall with an Honor Guard of six Suits. The King of Hearts and his betrothed sent their regrets that they could not be there to see him off. He had already said his farewell to the duchess the week before when she had departed to accompany Jack on his rounds about the realm. Other than that, he had not really formed any emotional attachments here while he had been the Carpenter, for that had not been part of the nature of that ruthless scientist. Robert was convinced that if such a man had been allowed to exist in his home world, the man would have been a dangerous sociopath. Brilliant, yes, but without a lick of compassion or conscience to hold him back from dark paths.

According to Alice, the date she had gone through the Looking Glass had been March 26, 2009. He could scarcely believe nearly a full decade into the 21st Century had passed while he had been obliviously carrying on these gruesome tasks in Wonderland. This meant the date of his return would be the ninth of April at noon. Alice had been adamant he return during the daylight hours.

As the technician punched the date code into the operating pad, anxiety attacked Robert's mind like a ravenous beast. He had left the world in March of 1998. There was going to be a full eleven-year gap of history for him to absorb. Bill Clinton had been president of the United States when he had been taken. There had to have been at least two, possibly even three presidents since then. What about his beloved field of science? What discoveries and advances had been made there that he would have given his right arm to be part of? How would he ever re-assimilate back into a society he had most likely been declared dead by for the past eleven years? What would his dear wife think? Would she recognize him or would she turn him away?

When the surface of the mirror rippled to life, Robert's entire body froze. He knew that he was supposed to move forward, but fear paralyzed him to the point where he felt like his lungs could not expand to take in air. For a devastating moment he found it impossible to return. The changes would be too great for his old, battered soul to contend with. No one would accept him. It would be better for him to stay here, after all. At least here he knew what he was doing. The world of his birth had become the strange, foreign place. The unknown.

"Sir?" one of the Suits asked in concern.

The man's voice inexplicably drew Robert's gaze down to the box he held in his hand which held the carving of Alice rendered by that kindly homeless man Stan. He had all but promised the man he would give this to Alice. And he did want to see his daughter again as well as his beloved wife. He forced himself to breathe and focused his mind on their faces, shutting out the raucous cacophony of fearful, paralyzing thoughts which sought to trap him in place.

"Y-yes, I'm ready," answered Robert with far more confidence than he felt. He slowly placed one foot in front of the other, his pace gradually picking up the closer he came to the Looking Glass.

"April 9, 2009; 12:00 in the afternoon, sir," the technician reported crisply.

"Thank you," Robert replied as he ascended the stairs. He tucked the box away in the bag he had slung over his shoulder, hoping it would be protected during the disorienting journey through the trans-dimensional plane. The surface of the Looking Glass was smooth and still, concealing the mysteries of its existence in a simple reflective guise. Robert knew that once he was back in his old world, he would never view a mirror the same way again.

He warred with himself once more. Alice and Hatter were waiting for him on the other side. He could not disappoint them. But there was still so much to fear, too many variables that were unknown and unpredictable. Wonderland had become familiar, comforting, and safe in its own perverse way. He quelled those fears by reminding himself that he was a scientist, and it was the unknown that was their bread and butter. Only backwards soothsayers of the Dark Ages feared the unknown. A man of science should embrace it and think of it as nothing more than more opportunity to learn and discover.

With that in mind, Robert took a deep breath and stepped through the Looking Glass.

* * *

The End.

Most of you will probably hate me for ending it like that. But, seriously, I can't tie everything up here otherwise this story will never end. You'll just have to arrive to your own conclusions or wait for the sequel to see how it pans out for Robert. I have…plans for him *rubs hands together evilly*.

Please review, if only to tell me how much you hate me for leaving it like that. I hope you all enjoyed the ride and thanks again to those who have supported me throughout this endeavor. It would not have been possible without you!


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